


You're My King, and I'm Your Lionheart

by Hypocorismm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Laura Hale, Amnesiac Stiles, M/M, Royal Argents, Stiles Is An Argent, Stiles is a prince, Werewolf rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2017-12-27 15:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 22,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/980747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypocorismm/pseuds/Hypocorismm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles wakes up an amnesiac and is actually Prince Klaudiusz Argent and starts a revolution.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

He woke up one morning, and he couldn’t remember his name. He couldn’t remember where he grew up, what his favorite color was, who his parents were, or when he last saw them. He couldn’t remember if he was left-handed or right and he couldn’t remember how he ended up in the ratty motel room he was lying in. He didn’t remember Tall, Dark and Broody who sat on the other bed with a sour look on his face, flipping through an old leather bound book, and he certainly didn’t remember Cute and Adorable Curls sitting at the desk with a leather bound notebook he was scratching furiously in. He sat up with a groan, and the pair looked at him, eyebrows raised.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” Broody deadpanned before turning back to his book.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Curls asked, turning to face him.

“I’m, I’m alright. Actually, no. I have no idea who you are, and I have no idea who I am. What, uh, what happened?”

“I don’t really know, either,” Curls answered. “We found you kind of wandering around lost and offered you a place to stay. Said your name was, what was it, Stiles, I think. Anyway, I’m Isaac, and that brooding mass is Derek, say hi Derek.”

“Hi,” Derek grunted out.

“Stiles,” he tested out, and frowned. It didn’t feel particularly _wrong_ but it didn’t exactly scream _yes, this is me._ “Mmm, I don’t really like it, but I guess I don’t really get a choice. What kind of name is Stiles, anyway? I mean, who looks at their child and thinks yes, this little human being is a Stiles? I don’t remember anything right now, at all, but I don’t really think Stiles is a common name.”

Isaac smirked, and closed his journal.

“We could ask the locals if they know who you are, if anyone’s gone missing,” Isaac offered. “But you seemed pretty lost when we picked you up, like you had no idea where you were.”

“Where are we, anyway?” Stiles asked, moving to sit at the head of the bed while Isaac joined him at the foot.

“A couple miles away from the capital outskirts. We were heading to a camp we have in the foothills,” Isaac said. “You could come stay with us there, if you wanted, until you got your memory back. We’ve got plenty of space, and it beats wandering the highways looking for something that jogs your memory.”

“Isaac,” Derek growled. Isaac shot him a look.

“We found him, Derek. We can’t just dump him at the local diner and wish him good luck, not like this. If he was Cora, or Scott, wouldn’t you want him to be taken care of?”

“But he’s not Cora, and he’s not Scott,” Derek countered.

“But he’s _someone’s_ Cora, _someone’s_ Scott!”

“Guys, you don’t have to fight over me. I’m a big boy. I can find a way to the capital and I’ll find a way home, wherever that is,” Stiles interjected, trying to create some sort of peace between them.

“No, we can’t let that happen. _Derek_ , he’s just a kid.”

“ _He_ is right here, and I’m an adult, you know,” Stiles said. He thought for a second before adding, “I think.”

Stiles huffed and stood up, pacing alongside the bed for a moment. He looked down his body, and grew curious as to what he actually looked like. He had big puppy paw hands and long limbs from what he could tell, like he hadn’t grown into them yet. Maybe he wasn’t as adult as he felt. Maybe he was just a kid. He stalked to the bathroom attached and flipped on the overhead light. It cast an awful bad horror film lighting over Stiles, fluorescent and harsh.

He wasn’t bad looking, to be honest. He wasn’t anywhere near the level of attractiveness that was radiating off Broody or Curls, but he had his quirks. He was lanky, just like he thought, with slim everything, and big puppy paw feet to match his hands. He had this unruly shock of brown hair sticking up everywhere at the top of his head and contrasted with his pale skin, which was littered with freckles and moles. He had this ridiculous wide mouth and upturned nose, all settled below his amber brown eyes. He felt some kind of warmth in his chest looking at those eyes, a residual fondness that he couldn’t place.

“Hey,” Isaac said, leaning in the doorway.

“I was hoping if I knew what I looked like, maybe it would jog memory of my parents or something. Although, I get the feeling that I miss them,” Stiles said with a shrug. “What’s up?”

“You can come with us, despite what Derek says. He’s a grump who would turn away the king.”

Stiles chuckled.

“I’m pretty sure _anyone_ would turn away the king,” Stiles answered thoughtlessly, turning back to the mirror. “Do you think I’m attractive?”

Isaac choked on the air he was breathing, gripping the doorframe tightly as he tried to stop.

“I mean, like, not like you’re attracted to me, but attractive to others?” Stiles tried to rephrase.

“Sorry, you surprised me, that’s all. I just,” Isaac stumbled over his words.

Derek cut in from the other room, “Yes, he finds you attractive.”

A fierce blush spread across Isaac’s face, creeping up over his ears and cheeks, all the way down to his neck. Stiles had a hard time not grinning at just how adorable Isaac looked with his head ducked down, his curls hiding half his face.

“Oh,” Stiles said.

“Sorry, I know the Argent dynasty is very anti-homosexual, and you know,” Isaac started, before Stiles grabbed his hand and stopped him.

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me, Curls,” Stiles said, and he didn’t know how he knew, he just did that he also wouldn’t be very high on the Argents’ list of desirables. He smiled at Isaac, squeezing his hand. “Argent dynasty or not, there is nothing wrong with you, and there’s nothing wrong with me.”

“Get a room,” Derek growled from the other room.

Stiles chuckled awkwardly.

“Do you mind if I take a shower?” he asked, gesturing towards the tub. His hands were filthy, he noticed, and so were the bottoms of his bare feet. He was wearing what appeared to be an old sheriff’s department t-shirt and ratty sweatpants. “I feel like I was homeless.”

“There are fresh towels up there, and you can use whatever we’ve got in there,” Isaac said with a welcoming smile. Stiles smiled back and he exited the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Stiles stripped off his clothes and stood in his boxers before the mirror. The moles marked a path down his chest, and his back, and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers. He started up the shower and stripped off his boxers as well before stepping in, pulling the rough, white curtain shut behind him.

The water pressure wasn’t great, and the water couldn’t decide if it wanted to be Antarctic cold or Fires of Mount Doom hot, but it was a shower, and it felt magnificent. He felt like a person again for a moment, his head not just full of cotton like he’d had too much to drink the night before and had woken up with the hangover of the century. It bothered him that he couldn’t remember anything, not even his name.

How old was he? Where was he born? What was his mother’s name? What was his father’s name? Did he take his father’s name, or his mother’s maiden name? Were they even married? Did he have a pet? Did he have a best friend? Did he have a sibling? Where did he go to school? Had he graduated high school? Was he a fugitive on the lamb?

That would explain why he was wandering around outside the capital without any shoes on and without his memory.

What happened to him? He didn’t have any head injury, so it wasn’t a physical cause.

The amount of questions he had kept adding up, but the amount of answers he had still remained at none. He just wanted to know who he was, why couldn’t his brain come up with that one answer? Who was he? 

 

-&-

 

Isaac woke Stiles up early the next morning with a smile and offered him a pair of clothes for the day. Stiles dressed and they ate breakfast Derek had picked up from the gas station nearby, before piling their things and then themselves into an old blue Jeep. Derek drove like a madman, foot heavy on the gas, passing every slow vehicle they could. That was the good thing about the roads outside of the capital, Stiles guessed, no one cared if you sped.

He wasn’t sure how he knew that, but it was something.

They didn’t talk, and whenever Stiles tried to start up a conversation out of sheer boredom, Derek’s cutting glance killed his attempt. Stiles stopped trying after a while, trading apologetic glances with Isaac before he settled into his seat to count the road signs.

They stopped for lunch at a rundown shack of a roadside diner, where a single waitress popped her gum behind the counter and a single cook read a worn Chuck Palahniuk novel against the stove in the back. Derek led them to a corner booth, Stiles sliding in before Isaac.

“Okay, so, what happens if I eat something I’m allergic to?” Stiles asked. “I’m old enough to know better.”

“Let’s hope you’re not allergic to anything,” Derek deadpanned as the waitress waltzed over, an over-exaggerated swing to her hips.

“I’m Lori, I’ll be your server this afternoon,” she said, handing each of them a menu. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

“I’ll just have a coke,” Isaac said with a smile.

“I’ll have a coke as well,” Derek ordered, keeping his eyes on his laminated menu.

“Yeah, I’ll have the same, I guess,” Stiles muttered, picking at the peeling laminate on the edge. The waitress, Lori swung back to the kitchen while the trio looked over the selection of diner food.

“Uhm,” Stiles said, head swimming with options that he couldn’t process. “God, I feel so stupid right now. I don’t know what any of this is. I feel like I should, and I can feel that I used to. I know I used to know what a burger is, but the information isn’t coming. What the hell is a burger?”

“You’ll like it, everyone does,” Isaac assured him.

“Yeah, okay, that works. Thanks, Isaac.”

Isaac smiled.

Stiles loved that smile. It was so bright, and honest, full of Isaac. That smile wasn’t contained to his lips but it lit up his whole face, dancing in his eyes and straightened his posture. That smile, Stiles thought, could be the death of me.

And while he didn’t remember the world the way Isaac did, or Derek did, he knew that smiles that that were rare. People used smiles to get their way, to lie, and to cheat, to connive, and to deceive. But that smile was so true, so honest, and so innocent.

Lori came back around with three glasses of coke, and set one down in front of each person with a wrapped straw.

“Are you ready to order, or would you like a minute?”

“We’re ready to order,” Derek said. “Three burgers, please. Well done. And three orders of fries.”

“Will that be all?”

“Yes, please,” Derek said, flashing a blindly gorgeous, albeit fake smile at the waitress. She scribbled down the order and nodded before walking away to join the cook in the kitchen. Stiles played absently with the straw, still wrapped in its paper shield, staring at the television in the corner. The news was looping footage of the royal family arriving home to the capital after going on their annual hunting trip. A breaking news banner ran across the bottom, a red strip announcing in big bold letters.

**PRINCE KLAUDIUSZ MISSING; LAST SEEN WITHIN CAPITAL CITY. REWARD OF $100,000 TO INFORMATION THAT LEADS TO PRINCE KLAUDIUSZ’ RETURN.**

“That prince kid must be something special, if they’re willing to pay a hundred thousand dollars for him,” Stiles commented, ripping the wrapped off his straw and pushing the straw into his coke. “Wonder if anyone’s missing me enough to offer thousands of dollars for my return.”

“I’m sure there is, Stiles,” Isaac assured him, a comfortingly hand rested on his shoulder.

“Thanks, Isaac,” Stiles murmured in return. “Who even names their kid Klaudiusz anyway? That’s just obnoxious.”

“Almost as obnoxious as Stiles,” Isaac joked, elbowing Stiles gently. Stiles smiled back, a smile that was big, and bright, and completely honest.

 

-&-

 

When Derek turned in for the night, Stiles and Isaac sat just outside their motel room door, arms brushing gently.

“How’d you end up with him, anyway?” Stiles asked, tossing his head towards Derek in the room. “You’re not brothers, and you barely seem to like each other.”

Isaac laughed quietly.

“He’s not my brother, no, but he’s as good as. He’s the only family I really have left, blood or not. We just sort of happened upon each other, two kids who had lost everything, and needed something to grab onto. We fight all the time, coming from different backgrounds and having different views on the world, but I don’t think I could imagine a world without him now. I don’t think I’d want to.”

Stiles let that thought sink in. Isaac had someone, family that he would rather die than live without. Did he have someone like that in his life? Were they out of their minds with worry right now because he was gone?

“We’ll find who you were, Stiles,” Isaac assured him, that same comforting that had rested on his shoulder in the diner now rested on his hand, squeezing just hard enough to remind him he wasn’t alone. “I promise.”

“You’ve been promising me an awful lot recently,” Stiles joked, nudging at Isaac with a smile. “Sure you can deliver?”

Isaac’s hand was warm on Stiles’ face as he turned him to face him.

“Listen, Stiles,” Isaac said low. “I am going to do my best to get you home to your family.”

Stiles nodded and leaned into the touch, leaning into Isaac. He was warm, warmer than Stiles anyway, and pretty much the nicest person in the world, as far as Stiles could remember. He didn’t want to move from this spot, huddled into Isaac in the depths of the night. Even if they couldn’t find Stiles’ home and family, he didn’t mind this right here.

“Isaac,” Stiles started to say.

“Isaac, it’s getting late,” Derek reminded him from the doorway. “It’s your turn driving in the morning.”

“Right, sorry, Derek,” Isaac said, moving away from Stiles and standing. Stiles frowned but stood as well. They didn’t say a word as they reentered the motel room and Stiles climbed into bed alone. 

 

-&-

 

Stiles woke in degrees the next morning, blinking bleary eyes in the darkness.

“You’re not supposed to fall in love with him, Isaac!” a rough voice, Derek’s probably, whispered harshly. “Our job is to bring him to the camp, not make goo-goo eyes at him.”

“I didn’t make _goo-goo eyes_ at him,” Isaac’s voice growled back. “And I understand our job. He just isn’t who I expected him to be.”

“He’s not the prince, that’s why. Not right now.”

“I know; he’s just some kid that we found wandering around.”

Stiles groaned, rolling onto his back to blink at the alarm clock.

**5:37**

“Hey, what are you doing awake?” Stiles asked, voice gravelly from sleep.

“It wasn’t intentional,” Derek grumbled, flipping over onto his side with his back to Stiles. Stiles got the impression that Derek only allowed him to tag along because Isaac had asked.

“I said I’m sorry,” Isaac whined, moving to turn the light on between them. Derek waved him off. “I had a nightmare, woke Derek up when I lashed out.”

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked, pushing himself up.

“Yeah, it’s not a big deal. Really. It happens all the time. Had a, uh, traumatic childhood is all.”

“I’d like to rip that guy limb to limb,” Derek growled.

“Yeah, too late, Jackson already got there first,” Isaac answered with a pained smile. Stiles chewed on his lip and looked between the two, Derek’s expansive back, a black triskele tattooed between his shoulder blades, and Isaac’s sheepish embarrassment written plain as day on his face. Stiles wasn’t sure if Isaac’s pallor was a trick of the light or if his nightmare had shook him that badly. Either way, he decided, he wanted to comfort Isaac, in any way he could.

“Do you want to talk about it? I used to get nightmares after my mom died,” Stiles said thoughtlessly, the words coming out as he picked nervously at his bedspread. The blankets in the motel room were scratchy and irritating at best, but he counted himself lucky to have a place to sleep at night, lucky to have Derek and Isaac looking after him when he couldn’t, and when they didn’t have to.

“Your mom? You remember her?” Isaac asked, eyes shifting to Derek’s back nervously.

“No, not one bit. I’m not even sure she _is_ dead, I just said it. I can’t remember who she is, or was, or might have been. I don’t remember how she died, or even if she did. I didn’t even mean to say that.”

Isaac nodded.

“Maybe it’s like muscle memory? You don’t have to think about it anymore, it just happens?” Isaac asked.

“This is all thrilling, but I’m trying to sleep, so either go outside to have your little epiphany or shut up,” Derek growled. Stiles nodded towards the door and Isaac nodded in agreement, both moving towards the door while Derek shifted into a tighter ball on his side. They left the door open a crack, Derek holding the only key to the door and sank onto the yellow cement car stop in the parking spot beside the old Jeep.

“My dad used to hit me,” Isaac started, picking at a spot on his sweatpants. “My brother, Camden was his favorite, and he died in the Argents’ war against the world. When he died, Dad snapped, I guess. He used to take me fishing in the pond, and we’d spend the whole day there, and he’d pack us turkey and cheese sandwiches, and we’d just sit in his boat or on the dock and he’d tell me stories. But, when Camden died, so did he. He couldn’t handle the loss of my mother and my brother, and he just started lashing out when I didn’t get perfect grades, or I wasn’t home by curfew. But, some shapeshifter I knew in high school lost it one night and uhh, well, tore him apart.”

“God, Isaac, I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, don’t be. I survived. I’m here now. I have Derek, and his sisters, and this kid, Scott. I just, sometimes the memories get to me, especially when I’m asleep,” Isaac said with a shrug. “Nights are hard.”

“Mmm,” Stiles agreed, staring up at the sky overhead. The sun was starting to peak over the far mountains, the sky a less frightening shade of dark blue. “Mom used to quote this guy,” Stiles said, watching the stars and tracing each constellation in his mind. “I don’t remember who he was or what he did, but he said, I have had dreams, and I have had nightmares, but I have conquered my nightmares because of my dreams. But she also used to say that she wouldn’t know who she was, if she didn’t have nightmares.”

“You keep mentioning her, are you sure you don’t remember?” he asked.

Stiles shrugged. “I feel like there’s a piece missing, inside my head, you know? Like, there’s a circuit not connecting, like I have vague memories but they’re useless without context. I have these, these bits of information but they’re useless. I remember my dad used to smell like coffee and mints when he came home from work, but I can’t remember what my dad did for a living. It’s, it’s frustrating, and I constantly feel dizzy like I might pass out from it at any moment.

  “And like, I remember big things, like what diners are or motels are, but I couldn’t remember what a burger was until I had one. I obviously am no expert on amnesia, I’m not an expert on anything like this, but this has got to be the weirdest form of amnesia. Ever.”

Isaac laughed.

Stiles liked to make Isaac laugh. He tried to do it as often as possible, because that boy had a magnificent laugh meant to be shared with the world, and he did not laugh enough. No one did, Stiles had noticed. His mom used to, though, he thinks.

His overall goal for this trip, he decided, looking at Isaac and then towards the motel room door, was to make this pair laugh just a little bit more.

 

-&-

 

It turned out that making Isaac laugh was easy and making Derek so much as smile was the hardest thing in the world.

But he wasn’t quite as shut off to Stiles as each day passed.

Three days since Stiles woke up, and they were still only a third way to their mountain hideaway. It didn’t even look that far, but the Argent territory kept going as far as the eye could see, Gerard Argent a greedy tyrant that saw something he wanted and took it by force. Most of Beacon Hills and its surrounding land was valley, stretching between two mountain ranges; the capital city nestled safely at the foot of the eastern mountains, the camp in the foothills of the western mountains. Thick forests covered most of the land, much to the Argents’ dismay and Stiles really had no idea where this knowledge came from but it was there.

“Tell me about how you met Derek,” Stiles said, sitting forward in the seat of the Jeep. Derek used to glare at him through the rearview whenever he tried to start conversation, but he mainly ignored Stiles now.

“His sister, Laura changed my life,” Isaac said with a secretive smile towards Derek. Derek tried to hide the twitch of his lips with a hand scratching at the dark stubble on his jaw. “After that, Laura and Derek took me in, gave me a home in the camp, and gave me a family.”

“Yeah, Allison and Chris did that for me,” Stiles said absently watching the trees pass by in blurs. Who were Allison and Chris, he asked himself, startled. He didn’t know who they were, but a warm feeling nestled in his stomach at the thought of them. “Or at least I think they did.”

Isaac and Derek shared a glance.

“I wish I could just remember them, because just feeling the way I do about them isn’t enough. I remember Allison used to hold my hand whenever I was upset and wouldn’t let go until I was smiling again, but Jesus, why can’t I remember who she is?”

“You’ll figure it out,” Derek comforted awkwardly.

“Stick to driving, Derek. You’re not really cut out for warm fuzzies,” Stiles chuckled. Derek shot him a look, but it was open and kind, almost fond. “But I appreciate it.”

“My entire family was killed,” Derek said softly. Isaac froze, turning to look at the driver. “The Argents had them executed, out of fear, rumor. Laura and I were out shopping for Mom’s birthday dinner when the Argents’ special werewolf task force trapped my family inside our home and burned it down.”

“Derek,” Isaac muttered, reaching over. Derek moved his hand with a minute shake of his head.

“I would do anything to get them back,” Derek said. “I would change fate’s design, alter my own destiny, whatever. I would do it, to have them back again. My point is, you’ll remember. When something matters that much to you, nothing will stop you, no head injury or magic potion. Nothing. Don’t worry, Stiles. We’ll get you home.”

It wasn’t a laugh, Stiles thought, but it was something.  

 

-&-

 

Isaac pulled into the parking lot of a fast food restaurant, and stepped out.

“I’m gonna stay here,” Derek said as Stiles joined the blonde outside. “Get me a burger or something. No mus-”

“Yeah, I know. No mustard, extra ketchup, with cheese and bacon. I know your order, Derek.”

Isaac led the way to the side entrance, before smiling at Stiles.

“He’s such a grump, isn’t he?” he chuckled. “But I guess that’s what happens when you lose your whole family because you trusted someone you loved.”

“What?” Stiles gasped as Isaac tugged him into line to order.

“Yeah, he fell in love with this girl, Kate or whatever, and he told her about him and his family. She apparently turned around and told the Argents and well, Derek and Laura were the only ones left alive, and Cora. But they didn’t know about Cora until they brought Scott and me to the camp.”

“That’s awful.”

“Derek hasn’t had much luck with women, to be honest. He never told me this, but Laura did so don’t mention I told you, but his first girlfriend, the love of his life, died. He had someone give her the Bite, because his Alpha wouldn’t, and her body rejected it.”

“That can happen?”

He hummed with a nod.

“Hi, can I help you?” the super perky strawberry blonde cashier behind the counter asked, her crown shaped nametag reading **JILLIAN.** Her hair was tied back into a curly ponytail and her tiny frame was hidden behind three sizes too big uniform.

“Yeah, hi. I need a double cheeseburger with no mustard, and a large soda, and whatever he wants,” Isaac said, gesturing to Stiles.

“Can I get a double cheeseburger, too?”

“Absolutely,” she said, tapping the touch screen register as they ordered.

“Want to share a fry?” Isaac asked. Stiles nodded. “Large fry as well, please.”

“Okay, and will that be all for you guys?”

“Yeah,” Isaac answered.

“Alright, that’s 7 dollars and 41 cents. Will that be for here or to go?”

“Ahhh, we’ll eat here. Derek won’t mind the extra peace and quiet,” Isaac said, nudging Stiles playfully. He handed over a ten dollar bill and dropped his change into the Relay for Life tin on the counter. “Come on, let’s go get a seat.”

They slid into a booth on the wall, overlooking the small parking lot.

“So what happened with this love of his life?”

“Ahh, well, she was suffering and he couldn’t take it any longer, so when she asked him to, he killed her. He doesn’t trust easily, and that boy definitely has not gotten laid in years. There was this girl who joined the camp a couple months ago, Jennifer or Julia or something. She’s been flirting hardcore with him, but he keeps shutting her out. I feel bad for the girl, but there’s really nothing we can do to help her, if he doesn’t want to be with someone.”

 **JILLIAN** brought over their tray with a smile.

“Have a nice date, I mean, day, guys,” she giggled, dashing away back to the counter.

“That was a bit weird,” Stiles said, unwrapping his double cheeseburger and peaking under the bun to make sure it was the right one. A habit he’d picked up from months of take out and fast food while Dad was working and Mom was in the hospital, he thought before taking a bite. Diner food was good, but fast food was gloriously bad for you and Stiles knew he should eat better; he just couldn’t bring himself to care.

They talked, Stiles prompting Isaac with questions about him since Stiles couldn’t offer his own anecdotes. Stiles drank out of the same cup as Isaac without a second thought, and they shared the fries. Isaac told him about fishing with his father, and playing board games with Camden, and sharing comic books with Matt. When they finish their food, they clean up their table, throw their trash into the garbage and order Derek’s cheeseburger with bacon, no mustard and extra ketchup as well as an extra thick chocolate shake, extra chocolate and no whipped cream for him as well from an extra peppy **JILLIAN** before leaving and getting back on the road, sharing one last secretive, only for them smile.

 

-&-

 

Isaac had a cute habit of ruffling Derek’s feathers out of boredom, picking at him like a brother. Stiles watched them, Isaac antagonizing Derek with a kind of easygoing banter that came with having spent so much time with others. Isaac would catch Derek singing softly to a popular pop song, and Isaac would tease him, and Derek would threaten Isaac’s life without any heat to it, and Isaac would tease him some more. Derek would reach over the center console and playfully cuff Isaac upside the head, a fond smile gracing his features for a moment.

Stiles wished he had a notebook to scribble in, to record these things. He wasn’t sure how well his memory would hold out, if he would continue to forget as time passed on. Would he wake up one morning and forget Isaac’s smile and Derek’s carefully timed eye rolls? He didn’t want to forget. He wanted to keep them around, because even though they were strangers to him, they _mattered._

Stiles listened to the stupid jokes Isaac told, nothing more than dumb puns, and laughed. Stiles watched as Derek relaxed a little bit after each, glancing almost proudly at Stiles as he tried to hide his chuckles. Mile after mile passed, Isaac and Derek switched places every couple of hours, and Stiles could feel himself growing more and more attached to the pair. Isaac drove a bit more cautiously than Derek, who had a tendency of speeding a few miles over the speed limit while Isaac was very strict about adhering to the rules of the road.  Stiles wasn’t sure why that was, maybe because of his father or maybe because he was afraid of being caught and accused of being a Sympathizer. Maybe Derek sped to run away from his past.

Stiles couldn’t blame either one of them, really.

“We’re almost there,” Derek said, pointing through the windshield from the passenger’s seat. Stiles leaned forward to look at the mountain range looming before them. He remembered seeing them from the Capital, staring out his window and tracing the peaks one by one with his eyes. He’d wanted to hike them, see the wild life that lived on the other side, the side he was never allowed to visit.

That thought stopped him, leaned him back in his seat.

 _“Listen, you’re allowed anywhere. This kingdom is your kingdom. You’re our family now, but you should never visit the countryside again. We don’t want people to assume things,”_ he’d said.

Assume things, Stiles echoed that in his mind. What they meant was that they didn’t want people to assume that Stiles was a Sympathizer. Not someone of his status, no.

He shook the thoughts off, putting himself back in the present, listening to Isaac talk about the camp.

“It’s totally worth the hike!” he was saying as Stiles tuned back in. “There’s always a bonfire going in the center, and we roast marshmallows and hot dogs every now and then, sometimes the hunter’s will bring back a deer for us to cook over the fire too. And there’s always someone there to greet you, and you’re never lonely.”

He gushed, like a man missing home, which was a pretty accurate description of Isaac from what Stiles could tell. And by his descriptions, he was right to miss a place that sounded very much like Heaven.

“Full moon runs are the best, because the entire compound participates, except for the humans, although some of them do elect to come along.”

“Full moon runs?” Stiles asked.

Derek and Isaac froze, glaring hard at one another.

“You can’t keep your mouth shut, can you, Isaac?” Derek growled, shaking his head violently.

“Well, he was gonna find out sooner or later. I mean, you can’t be in a camp full of werewolves without realizing that you’re surrounded by werewolves! The betas train as wolves nearly every day!”

“Guys,” Stiles started but was cut off.

“And blurting out about full moon runs is your idea of breaking the news?”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Guys, really,” he started again.

“You never mean to but your mouth is always getting us into trouble!”

“Derek, I’m sorry. You know I’m sorry.”

“Well, when he goes running to the King to tell them where we are, you being sorry isn’t going to mean shit, Isaac.”

“Derek,” Isaac whimpered, his grip on the wheel shifting repeatedly.

“I’m not going to run to Gerard,” Stiles said. “I don’t know who I am, but I wouldn’t, I wouldn’t do that to you guys. Werewolves or no, you’re still the only people I know, and the people that took care of a total stranger. The Argent teaching may be ‘the only good werewolf is a dead werewolf’ but I never really bought into that. I mean, humans have some pretty shitty people in the species but that doesn’t make us all bad by default. I always figured the same went for werewolves.”

The car was silent as Isaac pulled off onto a dirt road snaking its way into the forest. The Jeep bumped along, groaning with each pothole it bounced out of, until they came to a clearing. He parked the car alongside several others, and unbuckled his seatbelt.

“See, you just gotta have a little faith in people,” Isaac said, lightheartedly patting Derek on the shoulder, if a little roughly.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t fall in love with every Tom, Dick, and Harry that parades through the camp,” Derek said, not quite so lightheartedly. Stiles watched as Isaac’s cheeks burned bright as he stepped out.

Stiles pretended he heard nothing as he joined the pair outside.

“We just have to hike the mountain for a couple hours, but it’ll be worth it,” Isaac said, flashing a smile at Stiles.

“Yeah, okay. Let’s hike a mountain.”


	2. Chapter 2

The camp wasn’t what Stiles was expecting, but then again, he wasn’t entirely sure what he had been expecting. Wicker huts circled around a campfire, maybe. Maybe family size tents, or something along those lines. He wasn’t expecting modular homes, trailers, cabins all in neat rows, a big clearing in the middle like a quad at universities. At the center was a fire pit, thick rocks circled around the charred remnants, although at that moment was empty of any hint of fire. Picnic tables were situated to its right, under what looked like a foldable pavilion.

Families were laughing and chatting by a makeshift lacrosse field, young men and women dashing up and down its length with cheap looking sticks and a ball that could possibly be a tennis ball.

“Isaac!” a dark haired kid about their age yelled from the field, tossing his stick to someone on the sidelines as he abandoned his position. “You’re home!”

Isaac stumbled back as the kid slammed him into a hug, Derek reaching out to steady the pair.

“Good to see you, Scotty,” Isaac chuckled, hugging the kid, Scott back. Scott, the same one that Isaac had told him so many stories about, Stiles assumed. And there had been a lot of stories.

“Come on, we’ll bring you to Deaton,” Derek said, nudging Stiles forward, towards a nondescript one-story modular home. “He might have some answers, about your amnesia. We’ll be back, Isaac.”

“Wha?” Isaac asked, turning to face them, swinging Scott around by the shoulders.

“Taking. Stiles. To. Deaton. Be. Back. Soon,” Derek said slowly with a roll of his eyes. Stiles chuckled and waved at Isaac before following Derek up the steps into the home.

“Who is this Deaton?”

“He used to be a veterinarian, but when he moved here with the camp, he became the house doctor. He does what he can,” Derek said with a shrug, leading Stiles through the front of the house, the living room turned into a waiting room while the dining room had been turned into the exam room.

“Doc!” Derek called, peaking into the kitchen and then looping back around into the waiting room.

“Mr. Hale, it is nice to see you returned safely. Cora was just in here yesterday, anxiously fretting over your lack of communication with anyone in the camp. She freaked out a fox I was treating. Who, who is this?”

“This is Stiles,” Derek introduced. “He’s a stray Isaac picked up on the side of the road.”

“Well, Stiles, what has Mr. Hale brought you here for?” Doctor Deaton asked, leading them into the dining room/exam room.

“I, uhh, don’t know, actually. To help clear up my amnesia problem?”

“Amnesia, you say?” Deaton said, gesturing to his metal exam table. Stiles pulled himself up onto the table, legs dangling over the edge.

“We found him wandering around, delirious. We got his name before he passed out, but that was about it. When he woke, he didn’t remember anything,” Derek answered.

“I keep getting flashes of memory, like I remember my mom used to cook me and Dad bacon, egg, and cheese bagel sandwiches before we went to work or school, or how Dad used to come home smelling like coffee and mints, and Mom would yell at him for smoking when he promised he’d quit. But, I don’t remember their faces. I don’t remember what their names are, or who I am.”

“That is quite unusual. I am just a veterinarian, but I can try to get you your memory back, Stiles. However, it may just be a test of time, of your own mind’s healing power.”

“So, what you’re saying is, you can try but I probably will have to regain my memories on my own?”

Deaton nodded.

Stiles hung his head; he’d figured that would be the answer anyone gave him. He had a bizarre, non-injury that couldn’t be fixed or healed by anything but time and severe amounts of luck. And based on Stiles’ known history, he didn’t exactly have any significant amount of luck. His luck bank was cleared out finding Derek and Isaac.

“Let’s get to work, then,” Deaton said, rustling through cabinets and carts, collecting jars and potions.

It was going to be a very long day, Stiles thought.   

 

-&-

 

By the time Stiles was released from Deaton’s clinic, he’d sniffed many powders and drank many potions, none of which had helped in the slightest. It was near dark when he finally stepped outside, his head pounding from all of the incense burned in Deaton’s small exam room. Derek had left to get lunch three hours before, and hadn’t returned. Stiles wasn’t sure where to find him, and he didn’t have much energy too, either. The headache weighed down his head, made his limbs feel heavy, slow. He stumbled to the fire pit, a few people milling about it while another few stoked the fire, feeding it newspaper and dry grass.

“Uhm,” he stuttered, getting the attention of one of the men at the fireside. “I was looking for Isaac or Derek. I’m kind of new around here. Well, kind of. I am, new, I mean. Very new. Fresh off the boat kind of new.”

The man stared, mouth hanging open a bit. He was older, late thirties to early forties, with light brown hair and pale blue eyes. His sleeves were hiked up to his elbows and his hands covered in ash, probably from poking around in the spent fire from the night before.

“John,” the man beside him nudged him in the side gently.

“Sorry, you just, never mind. Isaac and Derek, you say? The Hale home is actually,” John said, standing and dusting his hands on his jeans. He turned Stiles to face one of the larger trailers, nearly a triple wide from what Stiles could tell. “right there.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said with a small smile, the pounding in his head too severe for anything more. He trudged through the picnic tables and found himself at the Hale door. He lifted his hand to knock when the door opened and a smiling Isaac stood in its place.

“Hi!” Isaac chirped.

“Hey, Deaton didn’t have any luck with the whole magic amnesia thing, so he let me go, since I wasn’t exactly helping anymore. Thought I’d come over here and I don’t know, sit and not think about how I don’t know who I am, or where I come from, or what my birthday is. If that’s okay with you, I mean, I don’t want to impose or,” he rambled. Isaac reached out and grabbed Stiles’ hand.

“Come on inside. Laura just got home from her duties, so you can meet Derek’s big sister!”

Stiles followed Isaac uneasily into the trailer, a beautiful woman with long, dark hair looked up from where she was doing a crossword puzzle at the counter in the kitchen, in pen.

“My mom used to do crosswords in pen,” he blurted, pointing at the book on the countertop. She raised her perfect eyebrows in surprise.

“I thought Isaac said you have amnesia,” she said, tapping her pen interestedly against the counter, leaning towards them.

“I do, I just get fractions of memories. Like, watching my mom do a crossword in pen,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I’m Stiles, by the way.”

“Laura Hale,” she said, holding out her hand. He crossed the room without Isaac and took her hand, shaking it firmly. She smiled. “I hear you’ve had quite the taxing week, sit down. I was just about to start dinner.”

“I thought the entire camp had a group dinner?” Stiles asked, sliding into the stool beside her.

“Oh, they do. But I didn’t really feel like charred venison for the third time this week. I did a bad thing yesterday, though. I slipped into town and bought the house actual groceries. We have vegetables and like, twinkies.”

“There are twinkies in this house?” a younger girl, about Stiles’ age asked, popping out of seemingly nowhere. She was a smaller, younger version of Laura, with the same face shape and build. “Why was I not informed on this?”

“Because,” Laura said, fixing the other girl with a stare. “You would have eaten them all before the boys returned.”

“And? They ate fast food the entire time they were gone, you know they did!” the girl replied.

“Cora,” Laura sighed.

“Laura,” the girl echoed back. “Give me a twinkie and I’ll leave you alone.”

“Bottom cupboard by the twirly-gig,” Laura gave in. Cora skipped by, pressing a fleeting kiss into Laura’s cheek as she slid to a stop in front of the bottom cupboard beside a lazy Susan cupboard. She rooted around until she shouted with victory, and popped up, clutching a yellow pastry in her hand.

“Laura Maisie Hale, I dare say you are the best sister I have ever been delighted to be related to.”

“Stop sucking up, Cora Lynette,” Laura shot back.

Cora grinned and skipped away, slipping into her room without another word.

“So, that’s Cora,” Stiles chuckled.

“Wait,” Cora’s voice sounded, and she reappeared out of her room. “There’s someone new here.”

“Nothing gets past those brilliant senses, do they, Cora?” Isaac teased as she stalked towards Stiles and sniffed at him.

“You aren’t from the camp,” she stated.

“No, you’re right about that,” Stiles answered.

“This is-” Isaac started.

“Stiles,” Stiles cut in. “I’m Stiles. Nameless amnesiac and useless leach, not from around here.”

“Stiles,” Isaac whimpered. Stiles gave him a self-deprecating smile and looked at Cora.

“I don’t know who I am,” Stiles explained, and found himself feeling like a broken record. “But Derek and Isaac have been kind enough to bring me here ‘til I find who I am. However, if either of you,” he glanced at both Cora and Laura to include them in his statement, “feel uncomfortable with me being here, taking up space in your home, I can find another place to stay until I’m back on my feet.”

Cora frowned and looked at Laura who shook her head in response.

“You will do no such thing, Stiles. Isaac and Derek feel like you are trustworthy, and we believe them. You are welcome in this house, for as long as you need.” Laura reached out and grabbed his hand.

“Thank you,” he said softly. She smiled.

“Now, dinner. Would you like to help, Stiles? My own mother always made us help with dinner when we had problems, kept our hands busy so we weren’t tearing into one another.”

“I’m not going to go tearing into someone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh, no. It just helps, I mean. You can work through things when you’re doing small tasks.”

“Yeah, okay. Let’s make some dinner.”

 

-&-

 

Laura was an amazing cook, Stiles found out, even with Stiles bumbling around in the kitchen beside her. She whipped together a dinner of turkey burgers and steamed asparagus, with a side of real mashed potatoes, nothing out of a box or microwaved. Derek and the boy from before, Scott came in as soon as Laura finished setting the food out on their dining room table, Cora and Isaac having been roped into setting the table for six.

Stiles sat between Laura and Isaac, listening to the family laugh and joke, Cora and Scott pressing Derek and Isaac for information about the world outside of the camp. Scott flicked mashed potatoes at Isaac for making a joke about Scott being a lonely virgin, and Laura scolded them both while Derek and Cora tried to contain their giggles. They even had dessert, a bowl of chocolate and vanilla swirled ice cream each as they sat on the couch and picked up cable signals from a nearby tower. They all groaned as the show they were watching flickered in and out, and a game picked up instead, a baseball game.

“The stupid Mets always take over every time, and I don’t get it. Is it a stronger frequency or something?” Cora complained.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, the Mets are awesome,” Stiles chuckled leaning forward to pay attention.

“He has to go,” Cora said.

“You remember liking the Mets?” Isaac asked, shuffling closer to Stiles.

“No, well, yes. It’s complicated. I don’t remember actively liking them, like the moment I started or how I even got into them. But I remember sitting on my couch with my best friend from when I was a kid, and I just remember watching the Mets and bragging about how my team had beaten his team once again, and we’d fight about it, but it’d be like brothers fighting… It sucks that I can’t remember who he is, because I know I miss him. I can feel it, like I’m missing a limb. There’s a part of me that isn’t here.”

Scott stood up abruptly.

“I forgot. There’s a thing. That I have to do. For John. I’ll be back,” he said in full stops before running out of the house, bowl of ice cream still in his hand.

“Was it something I said?”

“No, he’s fine,” Laura said, staring towards the door. “He apparently forgot to do something for John.”

“That seemed really sudden, though.”

Isaac shrugged and offered, “He’s just really forgetful.”

 

-&-

 

Stiles helped out around the camp, trailing after Scott and Isaac as they did their chores. Scott helped Deaton out in his clinic when he needed it, and Isaac mostly gathered firewood all day when there wasn’t an emergency run for toilet paper or something. That apparently happened a lot because no one bothered to check the supply trailer often enough. Stiles offered to organize it and set up a weekly supply run, but the camp didn’t trust him with much else but to trail behind others and pick up twigs where he could.

And at dusk, when chores were done and dinner was had, Isaac took Stiles’ hand and led him on a walk around the perimeter. Sometimes Isaac would tell stories about his life before his brother died, and sometimes they wouldn’t talk at all, just enjoy one another’s company.

What Stiles liked most about these walks was being alone with Isaac. He didn’t get enough alone time with the guy, and really, that was all he wanted in life at this point. He didn’t care if he ever knew who he was, as long as he got to be with Isaac as payment. Because Isaac didn’t press about his memory loss, and he didn’t bombard him with stupid questions. Isaac just let him be, held his hand, told him dumb jokes, and just let him be who he was without having to be who he had been before.

No, that was a lie.

Stiles just really like the kissing parts the most.

It just started happening, Stiles really wasn’t sure how or when, but one minute they were laughing, and the next Isaac’s lips were on Stiles’ and it was perfect. It was the very best first kiss of Stiles’ life, even though he wasn’t actually sure it was his first. He wanted it to be, no matter who actually was his first kiss. Isaac’s lips were soft and Stiles reveled in the way they were pressed together. Their noses slid against each other as they pulled away to breathe, hot breaths traded between them. They kissed a lot, slipping into shadows between trailers and pressing themselves into trees and giggling through their panting.

They kissed _a lot._ Mostly on their walks, but sometimes they’d catch each other during the day and kiss just because they could. Scott made disgusted noises, and Cora catcalled, and many campers called for them to get a room. Derek usually ignored them, as he did most things that didn’t immediately concern him and Laura would smile on happily, as if she’d had bets on them and she’d just cashed in.

“Isaac,” Stiles giggled against Isaac’s lips one night. The day had been long, and dull, and labor-intensive. He figured he deserved a good one-on-one make out session with his boyfriend. Or whatever Isaac was. “Isaac, I want to go on a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah, like, to dinner and a movie.”

“You want me to get thrown into firewood duty for the rest of my life, don’t you?” Isaac chuckled, brushing his hands through Stiles’ hair.

“How much harm can a date do?” Stiles asked, pressing a kiss into Isaac’s jaw.

“Plenty, especially if I leave the camp without permission.”

“You’re an adult.”

“Laura’s my alpha. I need her permission to do anything, really. She gives us free reign, practically, but leaving the compound without her express permission is one of the biggest no-no’s I could commit,” Isaac explained, resting his forehead against Stiles’.

Stiles frowned and looked down at his feet.

“Yeah, okay, I guess it was silly.”

“It wasn’t, not at all.”

“I just figure that if I don’t have any memories, I should make new ones. And what’s a better memory than awkward conversation over a crappy dinner and a movie where we don’t watch half of it because we’re too busy feeling each other in the dark,” Stiles mumbled. Isaac tipped his head up.

“Listen, we can’t leave the camp unless it’s a damn good reason to. But, I’ll find something for us to do here for a date, okay? I don’t want you to go without having a first date, and I don’t want you to think that I only want you for corner hook-ups.”

“I never said th-”

“You don’t have to, Stiles. I’ve been thinking that’s what this must seem like, and I want to make it so you have no doubts. I want to be with you, like go on dates and hold your hand and shout to the world that Stiles is my boyfriend. You know that, right?”

“Yeah,” Stiles whispered back. “I know that.”

“That’s good. I’ll look around, let you know if I find anything date-worthy.”

“If you can’t?”

“I’ll beg and plead Laura for a couple hours. She’ll understand.”

 

-&-

 

Isaac had to trade duties with someone to get the time for a date, leaving Stiles alone and extremely bored for an entire day.

“Hey kid, come here,” the same man that had shown Stiles the Hale trailer called from near the fire pit. Stiles looked around, saw no one else and walked over to the man. “Mind lending me a hand here?”

He was trying to move one of the picnic tables from away from the fire pit. Stiles wordlessly picked up the other end and together, they shuffled the table into the cluster of tables a couple yards away.

“Thanks,” he said as they set it down. “It didn’t look that heavy.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Stiles answered. “I’m Stiles.”

The man nodded, an unrecognizable expression passing over his face. “Yeah, I’ve heard about you from Scott and Laura. I’m John Stilinski.”

“Anything else I can help you with? My usual guard dog isn’t around today.”

“Guard dog?”

“Camp doesn’t trust me, so I have to have one of the Hales with me at pretty much all times. But Isaac is doing a duty that is not suitable for miniscule humans.”

“Ha, they warned me about your tongue.”

“What about it?”

“Nothing, just my son used to have a wit like that, quick and very sharp.”

“What happened to him, your son? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I, uhh, I had to leave him.”

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said soberly, staring at his hands.

“It’s okay; it’s safer for him with me gone. Sympathizer, and everything.”

Stiles nodded slowly.

“Come on, there’s a wood pile that needs to be moved from the fence to the fire pit.”

Stiles followed behind faithfully. He felt comfortable around John, more comfortable than he did around pretty much anyone else, save for Isaac.

Laura was nice, and she was very kind to let him stay, but she scared him. Cora was quiet, kept to herself; he was also scared of her. Derek was a bit strange, quiet with dark moody tendencies. Stiles wasn’t afraid of him, not in the slightest, but he knew that Derek didn’t exactly enjoy his presence. Scott, well, Scott avoided him. He couldn’t place why, but whenever they were in the same room together, Scott would bolt up and make up some stuttered excuse, and ran out of the room as quickly as he could. Stiles didn’t try to stop him, but it was a bit weird. He wasn’t sure if it was because of something he had done, or if it was because he was taking up space in Scott’s life, or if it was because he took up Isaac’s attention most of the time.

He didn’t mean for that to happen.

It was different around John, and he didn’t even want to question it.

He just let it happen.

John shared stories with him as they loaded up a trailer hitched to a four-wheeler with thick branches and planks of wood. He told Stiles about his job before he had to leave the capital, working on this task force that patrolled the streets, keeping the citizens safe from the task force sent out to look for werewolves. He told Stiles about how he’d sneak wolves to the border and point them in the direction of safety, how the prince had found out.

“Shouldn’t you be dead, then?” Stiles asked, dropping the last bundle of sticks onto the cart. John stretched a piece of tarp over the cart to keep them from falling out and secured it into place.

“I should be, but the prince and I had been friends for years. He knew my wife when she was alive. He was my son’s godfather.”

“Really?”

“Really. He couldn’t have me executed so he let me go, told me to leave the country and never come back. I’ve been hiding out here ever since, hoping to find my son.”

He smiled fondly at Stiles and climbed onto the four-wheeler.

“Come on, hop on.”

 

-&-

 

Stiles was kind of a shitty person, apparently. He had a standing weekly appointment with the good doctor, and at the end of the appointment, he was more angry than he was anything else. He locked himself in the bathroom of the Hale house and tried to keep himself from screaming in frustration. He hadn’t told anyone about how the amnesia weighed in his head, threatening to crush him underneath its enormity. There was just so much that he couldn’t remember, so much that he didn’t know about himself.

What if he’d been an asshole before this?

He hoped not.

What if his family was missing him?

He should be missing them too. But it was hard to miss someone that he’d never met.

It hurt worse than anything, actually, that he had people out there (most likely) that were missing him, and he was just sitting around in the camp, waiting for him to stumble upon his memory.

It was normally Isaac who coaxed him out, tapping nervously on the door separating them. He told him that dinner was ready, or he asked him if he wanted to talk about it, or promised him that it was going to be okay. Stiles would tiredly stumble out and right into Isaac’s waiting arms, and raggedly breathe into Isaac’s chest, trying not to cry.

Normally.

This time, the time where Stiles discovered just how shitty he actually was, he exited on his own to an empty trailer. He sank onto the couch and glared at the ceiling, the same thing he’d done when he locked himself in the bathroom. The change of scenery didn’t help.

The anger stewed in his gut, longing to lash out at something, someone. He wanted to throw things, break shit, yell, scream, make it known to the world that he didn’t remember a goddamn thing and it was awful.

“Are you done with your weekly breakdown?” Derek asked, popping up beside him. Stiles glared. “I brought dinner. Everyone else went for a run, pre-full moon jitters.”

Dinner was quiet because Derek wasn’t chatty, and Stiles wasn’t in the mood to try and drag any conversation out of Derek. They ate in silence and washed up their dishes in silence.

“What is your problem?” Derek finally asked, breaking their impressive twenty minute game of Who Can Be Quiet Longest? Stiles always lost that game as a kid.

“Nothing,” Stiles grumbled.

“You always come home from Deaton’s in a right sour mood and you take up our bathroom, and you’re just awful to anyone who isn’t _Isaac._ ”

“You wouldn’t understand,” Stiles answered.

“I wouldn’t understand? My entire family died because of me, Stiles, because I fell in love with a girl and she had my family executed. You not being able to remember shit is nothing!” Derek snarled.

“You made some bad decisions and killed your family, awesome! At least you fucking remember their names, or their faces, or whether or not they’re still out there somewhere! I live every day hoping that I will remember what my name is, let alone who my family is! You being an idiotic heartthrob who can’t tell a psychopath from a loved one is the least of my goddamn problems!”

Derek’s face closed off and he stormed off, just as Stiles realized what he’d said.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

He ran after Derek, who was a lot harder to catch up to since he was a werewolf and everything. But he finally grabbed onto his arm, and stopping him outside of the supply trailer. He held up a finger and huffed out a couple uneven breaths.

“Sorry, apparently I’m out of shape.”

Derek pulled his arm away and shook his head, walking away.

“One orphan to another, Hale,” Stiles said, catching Derek by the arm and locking gazes with the brooding mass. “I’m sorry. It sucks to lose everything, and I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have said that. I’m a shitty person. I’m sorry.”

“You’re, you’re an orphan?”

Stiles was an orphan, he thought, and looking at Derek _he knew_ he was an orphan.

“Yeah, I don’t remember much about it. My mom died when I was 8, cancer. But I was 13 when my dad died. He was a part of this special task force, not the one that hunted down werewolves. My dad was too good of a man to hunt down innocent creatures, just because the king says they’re bad. But anyway, I don’t remember exactly what he did. I think he kept the werewolf task force in check or something, kept everyone safe while they went head hunting. He went to work one day, and he never came home. I was at school when Detective Benson, the head of Dad’s taskforce came to get me. He took me out of class and told me that my dad had been shot and killed in the line of duty, had died a hero, and he was sorry for my loss.”

Derek nodded, didn’t offer his condolences, but Stiles was glad. He didn’t need to hear it again, he knew people pitied him. He had lost not one, but both of his parents and he’d been orphaned with no family to go to. In fact, he’d been shipped to live with his godfather and his daughter in the capital.

In the palace.

Stiles frowned, Allison’s shining smile flashing through his mind followed by the hug Chris had given him on his birthday that year. Chris, and Allison, the only family he had. Chris and Allison Argent.

Prince Christopher and Princess Allison, heirs to the throne.

His family.

Prince Klaudiusz, the missing prince; that was him.

“ _Oh my god_.”

“Stiles?”

“No, no,” he stumbled away from Derek, back slamming into the trailer. “I can’t be.”

“You’re starting to worry me, kid. Isaac’s going to be back any minute now, I think. Do you want me to call him?”

“No, no, no, no, definitely not. He’ll hate me. I just, I have to hide.”

“Hide?” Derek asked as Stiles looked around nervously. “Isaac could never hate you, Stiles.”

“It’s not Stiles!” Stiles, Klaudiusz yelled. “It’s not Stiles, I’m not Stiles, I don’t know who Stiles is, but I’m not him, okay! I’m the missing prince, Derek, and my family, my sister, Chris, they kill your kind. I probably kill werewolves. I kill, I kill werewolves. I probably would’ve killed you and Isaac when we first met, if I’d been myself. I kill.”

“Stiles,” Derek said, kneeling as Stiles’ knees gave out on him and he collapsed, starry-eyed to the dirt. “Stiles, you don’t kill werewolves.”

“How do you know that?” Stiles demanded.

“Because Klaudiusz Argent was never trained to be a werewolf hunter, you were too old to be a hunter when you came to them,” Derek answered, ducking his head to meet Stiles’ gaze. He focused on Derek, trying to keep his breathing even. “Besides, you’re the people’s prince, Stiles.”

“What?”

“I’ve talked to a lot of people in my travels, and they always go on about two things; how the king can go to hell, and how they love that sweet boy that the prince adopted. They love you. You’re not a killer. You’re just a kid that the entire nation fell in love with.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Stiles whimpered.

“It’s not.”

“If you knew who I was, why didn’t you return me to the palace?”

“You were walking away from the palace, Stiles. We weren’t about to take you back to a place you seemed to be leaving. Prince or no, you’re still a human being.”

“An underage human being.”

Derek shrugged.

“So is Isaac.”

“I don’t get it.”

“When Laura bit Isaac, we took him with us to the camp. He was underage, and we took him from his father.”

“You kidnapped him?”

Derek chuckled lightly. “No. He came with us willingly. He told you about his father, of course he wanted to come. I figure you and Isaac are no different.”

“I wasn’t abused.”

“No, but you wanted to get away.”

Stiles didn’t respond, rubbing a hand over his forehead nervously.

“Where’s my dad?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“John Stilinski, he’s my dad, right?”

“I don’t,” Derek went to shake his head as Stiles stood.

“Which way to his trailer, home, thing?”

Derek stood and led Stiles through the maze of homes to a small single-wide trailer. Stiles knocked uncertainly on the door, Derek waited by the foot of the steps.

“I’m coming, hold on,” John called from inside. The door pulled open and John stared, confused at Stiles. “Hey kid, what’s up? Derek.”

“John.”

“Are you my dad?” Stiles asked.

“Stiles,” John started to say.

“Just, are you my dad? Because I’ve been an orphan since I was 13, and Chris and Allison are great, I love them, but they’re not my family. And I just want to have my family again.”

The screen door opened and Stiles stepped aside to miss getting hit by it. John seized Stiles into a tight hug and they both sighed into the embrace.

“I missed you so much, Stiles,” John cried.

“I missed you too, Daddy,” Stiles whispered.

“I’ll just, I’ll go,” Derek said awkwardly, neither acknowledging the werewolf as he slipped away. John welcomed Stiles into the house and sat him down at the dining room table.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles said before John could think of anything to say to him.

“What for?”

“That I didn’t know. I should’ve known, because you’re my father, and you’re my only family.”

“Oh, Stiles. You don’t have to be sorry for that.”

“But we’re family.”

“And we’re together now. The important part is that you made your way back to me. You remembered, and I’m here for you.”

“I don’t even remember who you are, really. I mean, you’re my father, you raised me, you supposedly died when I was 13, and you used to smoke and it drove Mom crazy. But, I don’t know anything about you.”

“Maybe that’ll come back to you, or maybe we’ll just have to make up for it from here on out. It’s all we can do, Stiles. You’re here now.”

Stiles nodded.

“Come on, are you hungry? I can make your favorite.”

“Which is?”

John laughed.

“You used to really like grilled peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, lord knows why. I think that was Claudia’s doing. Whenever you were upset, she’d make you a sandwich and you’d calm down. It was magic.”

Stiles smiled.

“I already ate, but thanks. I’d like to just talk, if that’s alright. I mean, I want to know you. And I have so many questions.”

“Of course. I can only speak for the first 13 years of your life, but I can share what I know.”

“Okay, first of all, is my name Stiles or Klaudiusz?”

“Both,” John laughed. “That was your mother’s doing as well. She wanted to name you after her father; he died when she was a kid. Her father’s name was Klaudiusz, and so is yours. But when you went to school, your classmates couldn’t say your name, so you started going by Stiles. You made it up yourself, out of Stilinski.”

“Stiles Stilinski,” he said with a smile. “When Isaac and Derek told me what my name was, I didn’t feel like it was an actual name. But it does feel like me now.” 

“Anything else?”

“Oh, yeah!”

 

-&-

 

Stiles ended up falling asleep on the couch talking to his father, and he woke up there, a blanket laid over him. He pulled it closer and smiled. He had his father back. He remembered more than he ever had, and he felt like he was at home.

But something still felt missing.

A couple somethings.

Big somethings.

Allison Argent was definitely one of those big things, her hundred watt smile lighting up the darkest situation. She was important to him, even if he’d only known her for a handful of years. She’d chased away his fears and nightmares, let him sleep in her room even though he had his own, and soothed his panic attacks in hidden stairwells.

“Good morning,” John said, stumbling blearily from the one bedroom in the trailer. 

“Good morning. What time is it?” Stiles said, sitting up.

“Just before 6 o’clock.”

“What are you doing up?”

“Morning rounds. I sometimes take perimeter watch.”

“That sounds dreadful.”

“It can be, but it was better than coming home to an empty trailer.”

Stiles frowned but kept his back to his father while John puttered around the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee.

“So are you and Isaac going out?” John asked.

Stiles coughed on air he was inhaling.

“How’d you know?”

“I’ve seen you two walking around, plus Isaac won’t stop talking about how awesome you are,” John said. Stiles twisted around on the couch to watch John make his coffee.

“You’re okay with it?”

“Kid, if you like Isaac, good for you. Isaac is one of the sweetest kids in the entire camp, and he’ll treat you right. Just make sure you do the same for him.”

“Of course, I mean, he was my only friend the entire journey here. Derek was there, but he’s not exactly _sociable._ ”

John laughed, nodding. “No, that boy is a bit scarred.”

“I know. I said something awful to him last night, and he told me what happened.”

“Did he tell you who the girl was?” John asked.

“No, I didn’t really think it was any of my business. I’d already insulted him.”

“It was Chris’ sister, Kate Argent.”

“Kate? She killed, she killed the Hales?”

“All of them, except for Laura, Derek, and Cora. There were sixteen innocent men, women, and children in the Hale pack. Three survived.”

“Kate always was awful to me,” Stiles said. “I wouldn’t doubt that she was also a mass murderer. I threw this mini party for the servants when she left.”

“Left?”

“Some secret mission, or whatever. I don’t know, about a month later, we were told that Kate’s body was found. A pack of werewolves had killed her. We had to act mournful but none of us would miss her. It’s been a year, and my life got exponentially better with her gone.”

“Derek’s too, I think,” John said thoughtfully. “You could try to talk to him, you know.”

“He’s not exactly fond of me,” Stiles replied.

“He’s not exactly fond of anyone.”

“That’s true,” Stiles conceded. “I don’t know, Scott doesn’t seem to like me much either.”

“Scott? Scott McCall?” John scoffed.

“Yeah, he runs out of the room whenever I enter it.”

“I’m going to tell you something, and you have to promise not to tell Scott because I promised that kid that I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why?”

“You and Scott used to be best friends, you were like brothers.”

“Scott?” he asked.

“Yeah, you two were inseparable. When Scott came here with the Hales, I’d never seen him so depressed. He misses you like crazy, and you came here without a single memory of him. He told me that first night you were here, that you remembered fighting with him about the Mets, and he was so upset. He wanted to tell you, but he wasn’t allowed to.”

“Wasn’t allowed to? Why wasn’t he allowed to? And why didn’t you tell me you knew me?”

John’s mouth snapped shut and he shook his head.

“I’ve said too much already. I’ve got to go, rounds to do.”

Stiles watched, confused. John called goodbye and left, Stiles still wondering what just happened.

 

-&-

 

Stiles marched over to the Hale trailer, and went to pull the door open when he heard voices.

“I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out.”

That was Stiles’ father.

“What did you tell him?”

That was Laura.

“I just said that Scott wasn’t allowed to tell Stiles that he knew him.”

“Joooooohn,” Laura groaned.

“I didn’t mean to! He’s my kid! How am I supposed to lie to him?”

“Did you tell Stiles about Santa when he was a kid?”

“That’s different!”

“John, it’s imperative,” Laura said.

“I know, I know. I don’t like lying to him, is all. He thought I was dead for close to five years, and he finds out I’m alive, and I still have to lie to him.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But we risked so much bringing him here. We can’t let anything stand in our way.”

“Even my child finding out who he is? You don’t know Stiles the way I do. He would help.”

“You haven’t known Stiles in five years, John. He was in the Argents’ grasp for long enough. They could’ve changed him,” that was Derek’s voice.

“They didn’t,” John said.

“You can’t possibly know that! He doesn’t even know who he is!” Derek argued.

“I don’t know what you guys did to him to remove his memory, but it didn’t remove his personality. He’s not an Argent,” John snapped.

“Okay, okay, guys, calm down. We’re going to wake the entire camp if you keep shouting like that. Besides, we have a guest. Come on in, Stiles,” Laura called.

Stiles froze where he stood, his hand reaching out and opening the door without his permission. His feet moved him inside, and he stood, staring with wide eyes at the trio in the living room.

“Stiles,” John said.

“You didn’t find me running away, did you, Derek?” Stiles asked.

Derek shook his head.

“I wasn’t delirious, and the only thing I managed to tell you was that my name was Stiles. You kidnapped me from the palace, took me away from my family, for what? What could I possibly be of use for? Did you guys need the money? The hundred grand for my return? Or is there some plot you needed to use me for?”

They remained quiet.

“Was there?”

“You don’t understand,” Derek started.

“No, you don’t fucking understand, Derek. You took me from my home, from the people that took care of me when my dad died, and you made me forget! You dragged me across the country and what was Isaac? Was Isaac to keep me docile? Keep me from asking questions?”

“Isaac wasn’t supposed to happen,” Laura answered. “Isaac fell in love with you, and that wasn’t part of the plan. But Derek has a soft spot for Lahey, and allowed it to happen.”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s blame this on me. It wasn’t my idea to take Isaac with me.”

“We’ll talk about you later, Derek,” Laura said through gritted teeth.

“So the rest of it?” Stiles demanded.

“Stiles, it’s not like we had any other choice,” Laura started.

“ _It’s not like you had any other choice_? Did I harm you in any way? Did I cause you to suffer? Do you have some personal vendetta against me that you ripped me from my life, because you had no other choice?”

“Allison would’ve put up too much of a fight,” Derek blurted out. Laura glared at him.

“Allison would’ve… You would’ve taken Allison? Why?”

“Our lives are awful, Stiles,” Laura said.

“Yeah, because this is so terrible!” he snarled, gesturing to the camp around them.

“Will you sit and listen to what I have to say?” she asked gently. Stiles was shaking with anger but nodded, because if someone was willing to tell him what was going on, he was willing to listen. “John, go about your rounds. Derek, go somewhere else. This is between me and Stiles. I planned this with the other alphas. I should explain it.”

Laura led Stiles to the table where he sat and waited for the other two to leave. Laura sat very calmly across from him and began.

“This is a safe haven for werewolves and sympathizers,” Laura explained. “Deaton founded it a couple years ago when the executions were at an all-time high.”

“Executions? You mean of feral wolves.”

“No, Stiles. I mean of anyone who was a werewolf, feral or not. It’s the reason my entire pack was burned to death, because our secret was revealed to the wrong people, and they eliminated us. The Argents are werewolf hunters first, and leaders second. Their entire reign is based around eliminating every wolf in their territory. That’s why they invade so many countries, so their territory is never-ending. So many of my kind have been slaughtered out of fear and ignorance, and they’ve hidden away while they should be free. They should howl at the moon on the nights where it’s at its fullest, and they should run through the trees for fun, not just for their lives. We grew tired of hiding, and we’ve decided to fight back.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“You’re important to Chris, to Allison, to the entire country. You’re the people’s prince. They love you.”

“Okay? So, you’re going to use me as a bargaining chip?”

“More or less.”

“You’re not going to like, kill me, are you? If you don’t get your way?”

“No, of course not. We don’t kill. That’s the whole point. We’re not the monsters here, Stiles. The Argents are.”

“I don’t think you realize that they’re my family, monsters or not.”

“That’s what I was afraid of, actually. That you would fight, that you would be more like them than you are like John. That’s why I had Deaton fix up a potion that would cause you to forget who you were, for a little while. It’s taking a bit longer than anticipated for the effects to wear off.”

Stiles nodded stiffly. He wasn’t sure if he should trust her, given that she’d had him kidnapped. But she hadn’t tried to hurt him, and he wasn’t bound and gagged. Gerard would love to see Stiles bound and gagged, and the fact that his enemies were treating Stiles nicer than the king ever had made Stiles giggle in the middle of Laura’s sentence.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. It’s just that you’re treating me so well. You feed me, you let me use your supplies, help out with chores, give me a place to sleep.”

“We’re not monsters.”

“No, I know. That wasn’t my point. You treat me nicer than Kate or Gerard ever did.”

“Kate? You knew her?”

“Briefly. She made my life miserable. Used to shove me around, called me a fag, left bruises on me, caused me to have the worst panic attacks I’ve ever had. She hated me, and in turn, I hated her.”

“Wow, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, but what she did to me was nothing compared to what she’s done to you.”

“You heard about that, huh?”

“She bragged about it a lot,” Stiles said. “I was 14 when she shoved me into this basement and made me try and fight her hand-to-hand. She told me I could try all I wanted but I could never take down the girl who took down the largest werewolf pack in the area. Told me she knew everyone’s weakness. She knew mine, at least. She sat on my back while I had a panic attack, wouldn’t let me up until I told her she should be the queen.”

“She was a horrible bitch,” Laura agreed, taking his hand across the table. “We’ll never treat you like that.”

“I’m still your prisoner, though.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Oh, you’re telling me I could leave right now? I could walk off camp and you would let me.”

“Stiles, you’re not our prisoner. I was hoping, actually, I could ask you to join us.”

“Join you?”

“Don’t just be a bargaining chip, be a player. Be part of our revolution.”

“You have a camp full of women, and children, Laura. Gerard has an army.”

“Even Troy fell.”

“That’s because the Trojans believed in the goodness of their enemies. They were fools. Gerard Argent is not a fool.”

“Maybe we don’t need a Trojan horse, then,” Laura replied, keeping her grasp on his hand as she held his gaze. “Maybe we just need one well-placed player to take down Gerard’s house of cards.”

“Stop jumping metaphors,” Stiles said, shaking his head. He pulled his hand free. “I need some time to think.”

He left Laura alone in the dining room, her hand still stretched over the table as the screen door slammed behind him.

 

-&-

 

Isaac found him sitting on the fence surrounding the camp.

“You weren’t part of the plan, right?” Stiles asked without looking away from the trees.

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t supposed to make me fall in love with you, right? That was just something that happened, not planned.”

“No, Stiles, it wasn’t supposed to happen,” Isaac said, pulling himself up onto the fence with Stiles. Stiles took Isaac’s hand and stared at their fingers laced together.

“I don’t know what to do. If I don’t join, I’m betraying everything my father has ever worked for, I’m betraying you, and Scott. But if I do, I’m betraying the family that took me in when I had no one.”

“How can you want to defend them?” Isaac asked. “I heard what they did to you, I heard you telling Laura.”

“Not all of them, just Kate and Gerard. Victoria was even pleasant to me, and she hated the world. Chris and Allison, they didn’t treat me like glass when I first came to them. Chris didn’t know how to deal with an orphan; he’s never been good with words, so he put me into training with Allison. I’m a great shot with any handgun, and I’m decent at hand-to-hand combat. I can defend myself. And Allison,” Stiles said. He smiled. “Allison was my angel. She used to playfully punch me, like she did when we were kids. But when she found me in this servant’s stairwell near my room, panicking and not being able to breathe, she held my hands and kissed my cheeks, and calmed me down. She’s always been so sweet to me.”

“She’s an Argent.”

“You guys say that like they’re heartless demons. It’s just like saying all werewolves are inherently evil just because of who you are.”

“They’re raised to kill my kind.”

“Maybe, but Allison and Chris, they follow the code.”

“What code?”

“The code, like capitalized C. The Code. We hunt those who hunt us.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Chris let my father go.”

Isaac sighed.

“I don’t want to fight with you over this,” Isaac gave in.

“Then stop, I’ve got enough to fight about.”

Isaac leaned over and kissed Stiles.

“What are you going to do?” he asked, resting his forehead against Stiles’.

“I don’t know.”

 

-&-

 

Stiles found Laura with Deaton that night, looking over blue prints, pointing and murmuring.

“We need to talk,” Stiles said.

“Okay,” Laura straightened up and nodded towards Deaton. Deaton cleared the room, tending to his animals. “Have you decided?”

“Before I decide, I need to know one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Will Isaac, Scott, my father, will they all be safer if I help you?”

“Yes.”

“I’m in.”


	3. Chapter 3

“What are you going to do?” Scott asked, sitting on the hood of the four-wheeler with Stiles.

“I don’t know,” Stiles answered. Since he remembered, most but not all of his life, he’d spent as much time as he could with Scott. Making up for lost time, his dad said. He had to split his time with Scott, Isaac, his father, and planning with Laura.

“I know the inside of the palace,” he had explained one night, starting to sketch out the defenses in place inside the capital’s walls. He mapped it out, circled the most heavily guarded portions, drew the most direct paths to the castle itself, and even plotted some of the secret passageways beneath the castle. “It was a hobby of mine, when I first moved there. Allison taught me all of the secret routes, as part of my training, and I had to memorize how to get out in case of an emergency. But I also studied the servant’s passageways, how the plans differed from the actual design. It was fascinating; I spent hours in the library just looking at maps and blueprints.”

When he was done, they had several copies of the castle’s floor plans, all marked up in Stiles’ chicken scratch and Laura was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

He was crucial, Laura had said at an Alpha meeting, if they wanted to infiltrate the castle’s defenses. He was their secret weapon.

Stiles had tried not to roll his eyes at the phrase “secret weapon.”

He really did.

“Are you okay with this? I mean, you loved them. Back when we talked, before Laura bit me, Stiles, you could go on forever about how nice they were, and how you wanted for nothing. They’re your family.”

“They’ve killed hundreds of your kind, Scott,” Stiles said with a shake of his head. “Family or not, I have to think about what’s best for this country.”

“You sound like a prince,” Scott chuckled.

“Well, I was put in prince lessons the minute they adopted me, just in case anything happened to the rest of them. I’m not blood related, so I’m not a legitimate heir, but I’m a better option apparently than letting the country fall into enemy hands.”

“You could be king some day?” Scott asked.

“Yeah, potentially. If Gerard, Chris, and Allison all died, and I was the last remaining Argent, I could become the king. How weird is that? Stiles Stilinski, a king.”

“Stiles _Argent_.”

“ _Klaudiusz_ Argent, actually. They wanted me to seem more regal or something. I don’t know. It’s weird, you know? Mom was the only one to call me Klaudiusz, ever. And now the entire country knows me as Klaudiusz. I don’t know how to handle that sometimes,” Stiles said, staring out into the center of camp. “I can’t even be myself, what with Gerard’s rare case of homophobia. Chris doesn’t even care. He caught me making out with a servant boy in one of the back stairwells, just shook his head and told me to make it quick, that I had a training session in 10 minutes. Allison talks to me about boys like it’s completely natural, and I don’t even miss the palace, or the having it all, or anything about that life. I miss _her_ and I miss Chris.”

“Does Isaac know about the servant boy?”

Stiles chuckled and shook his head, “No. No. The servant boy didn’t even, he wasn’t important. Just like that kiss with Danny in 3rd grade.”

“Oh, yeah! You did kiss Danny, didn’t you?” Scott cackled. “Did you hear about Jackson?”

“What about Jackson?”

“Some alpha bit him, but he kind of went crazy with the power, killed Isaac’s dad, a bunch of other people before a pack picked him up and reined him in. I haven’t heard about him since, but I think he’s better now.”

How could Stiles have ever forgotten Scott? Scott who understood his dumb jokes. Scott who used to trade him the peanut butter sandwich Melissa packed him every day for the ham and cheese Stiles always got. Scott who probably still hadn’t watched Star Wars, even though it was one of the best science fiction movies in the world! Scott.

“How’s your mom by the way?” Stiles asked, picking a rock up from the ground and chucking it over the fence into the woods.

“I don’t know. They haven’t made the monthly mail run yet, so I haven’t gotten her letter. Did you see her at all?”

“No, I was in the palace, remember?”

“Right, right, I’m just worried, you know? I keep imagining going into the city and taking my mom, bringing her back here. She’d be safer with so many wolves to protect her.”

“Wouldn’t they question her disappearance?”

“People disappear from the city all the time, believed to be Sympathizers or werewolves. They’d just assume Gerard’s men had taken her.”

“I’ll see what I can do, about bringing her back,” Stiles said, knocking his shoulder into Scott’s.

“You’re going with them, and I’m stuck here,” Scott sighed, shaking his head. “How fair is that?”

“To be fair, you’re a baby wolf, and I’m the walking palace map, remember?”

“I am not a baby wolf!”

“Scott.”

“Stiles.”

Scott turned away from the fence as Stiles went to argue further, sniffing the air.

“Isaac’s coming this way,” Scott said, eyes alert. Isaac leisurely loped into the clearing by the fence with a smile.

“You’re getting better at that, Scotty,” Isaac complimented, heading straight for Stiles.

Scott grumbled something that Stiles couldn’t hear, but he wasn’t paying much attention anyway. Isaac had mischief in his eyes and a sexy smirk on his lips that melted Stiles’ insides.

“Hey you,” Isaac said, pulling Stiles into his arms and crowding into his space.

“Hey yourself.”

“I finally worked it out with Laura,” Isaac muttered, nuzzling his face into Stiles’ hair. _Werewolves._

“What?”

“Our date. She agreed, since she’s making you go be a hero and stuff.”

“Mmm, yeah, date,” Stiles said, tilting his head up and capturing Isaac in a surprise kiss. He faintly heard Scott call out his disgust before huffing away, most of his senses overloaded on Isaac. He tried to prepare himself for the overload of Isaac every time they kissed, but he just couldn’t. He drowned in him, in the taste of Isaac on his tongue, the feel of Isaac against him, the sounds Isaac made, the minty breath that Isaac breathed into their shared space when they broke apart for breathers. He wanted to drown in Isaac, wanted to breathe in Isaac until his lungs were full, until Isaac was all he could see, smell, taste, feel, until he was overwhelmed and succumbed to whatever fate came from such a death. He could die happy that way, with Isaac there, and everywhere.

“Or, we could just do this all day. I’d go for that,” Isaac murmured against Stiles’ lips.

Stiles hummed and nodded, not quite sure to what he was agreeing. But if agreeing kept Isaac there, kept Isaac kissing him, he would do it. He would sacrifice the world for just one more kiss.

“Laura will kill me,” Isaac said.

“Shhh,” Stiles stated in reply, burying his hands into Isaac’s hair and held him as close as he could.

“Stiles,” Isaac said, pressing his hands into Stiles’ chest and easing him backwards, breaking the kiss and putting distance between them. “I have this amazing date planned out, and it definitely ends with us doing this, but we have to go on the date first for this to continue.”

“Are you blackmailing me with kisses?”

“I’m bribing you, actually,” Isaac said, grinning mischievously.

“Can you guarantee that we’ll continue this afterwards?”

“I promise.”

Stiles chewed on his lower lip for a second before nodding.

“Yeah, all right, I’ll keep my hands to myself long enough for this amazing date, as long as there is massive amounts of making out and groping when we get home.”

“Copious amounts,” Isaac replied, taking Stiles’ hand.

 

-&-

 

Isaac had begged, and pleaded, and bargained with Laura for permission to take Stiles out of the camp for a couple of hours. He had to promise her he’d do all of his chores, and any chores that Cora, Derek, and Scott slacked on for the rest of forever.

“He’s the prince,” Laura had argued. “He’s going to be recognized!”

“Laura, we made it all the way here without anyone recognizing him,” Isaac rebutted.

“Isaac, this is an unnecessary risk.”

“I just want him to feel normal, for him to have something not wrapped up in the royal line, or werewolves. Please, Laura. Please!”

Eventually, Laura caved, and Isaac got his way.

Isaac always got his way when it came to the Hales, since they were all born with a built-in Isaac soft spot.

He led Stiles down a path through the woods to the Jeep, refusing to tell him where they were going.

All he would say was, “If I tell you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it?”

“Okay, no, it wouldn’t,” Stiles reasoned. “But it doesn’t have to be a surprise for me to enjoy it.”

“Nice try,” Isaac replied, “but it’s going to get you exactly nowhere.”

Stiles frowned exaggeratedly at Isaac’s back as they played Follow the Leader through the thick trees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wooing me by being an amazing boyfriend right now?”

“Probably, but then I would be typical,” Isaac said.

“And we all know Isaac Lahey is anything but typical,” Stiles teased. Isaac whirled around and backed Stiles into a tree, crashing their lips together in a messy kiss. He stepped away, leaving Stiles whimpering and panting.

“Anything but typical,” Isaac replied, taking Stiles’ hand and walking through the trees again.

Their destination, it turned out, was a small diner where the owner knew Isaac by name.

“I kind of sneak out of the camp when it gets too cramped,” Isaac said honestly, leading Stiles by hand to a back booth, letting him sit with his back to the rest of the restaurant. “Dalton lets me hang out here; sometimes I help out in the kitchen if his cook needs a break.”

“I was not aware that you can cook, Isaac,” Stiles said, reaching over the table to grab Isaac’s hand in his own, threading their fingers. “You should definitely make us dinner one night, when you can’t strong-arm Laura into letting you do whatever you want.”

“I did not strong-arm Laura.”

“Mmm, of course not. Isaac Lahey would never.”

“Just because I am convincing doesn’t mean I strong-armed her.”

“Fine, you puppy-pouted at her until she gave in.”

Isaac shrugged.

“It was worth it, because here we are, out on a date, outside the fence of the camp,” Isaac said, squeezing Stiles hand just as Dalton, the owner, swept over in a flurry of limbs. He was probably about Laura’s age, in his late twenties, with white blonde hair and dark blue eyes, grinning at the pair. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, a white apron tied around his waist.

“Hi guys, what can I start you off with to drink?” he asked.

“I’ll have a coke,” Isaac said.

“Yeah, same,” Stiles said.

“Oh, and an order of curly fries, Dalton. Largest plate you can manage, yeah?”

Stiles tried to hide his grin. He had rediscovered his obsession over curly fries at dinner one night. The Sheriff had brought over a huge bucketful (no, really, it was actually a bucket. Werewolf metabolisms), and Stiles had just fallen in love all over again. Isaac snatched curly fries from the camp’s walk-in freezer as often as he dared for Stiles, but nothing was as good as freshly made curly fries, which Isaac had raved about.

“Wait, is this the place?” Stiles hissed, leaning towards Isaac. Isaac nodded. “You are the best boyfriend in the world, holy god.”

“I try. That’s pretty much all we’re going to order too, trust me. And then, we’re going to the movies, there’s a cute two-theater place down the road that shows movies that have been out of DVD for ages, and tonight they are showing Star Wars.”

“Which one?” Stiles asked skeptically.

“A New Hope, of course.”

Stiles grinned and tried, honestly tried, not to bounce in his seat, and then proceeded to bounce in his seat anyway because he was just too damn excited. He hadn’t seen Star Wars in years, not since moving into the palace. They didn’t really condone science fiction movies, only training videos and documentaries.

“I just, you’re too perfect. How am I supposed to compete with that?” Stiles asked.

Isaac shrugged, “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

Stiles grinned. “Oh, I have a couple ideas already.”

 

-&-

 

“What’s the plan?” Stiles asked, sliding in beside Laura a few days later after the Alpha meeting. “I mean, besides storm the castle and rescue the damsels in distress.”

Laura rolled her eyes.

“The Alpha counsel has changed its mind,” she said softly.

“What, they don’t want to take down the big bad werewolf hunters after all?”

She shook her head.

“They don’t want to involve you, they don’t, they don’t trust you.”

“They don’t _trust_ me? After all of the maps and plans that I’ve given them, after everything I’ve done for them, they don’t trust me. Because I spent a couple years living with the Argents, I’m suddenly secretly a werewolf hunter waiting for my time to spring, waiting for the perfect moment to betray you? Betray my father, and my best friend? Do you think that little of me?”

“I don’t, of course, I don’t. I think you are our best chance of standing our ground and winning, not because we’re using you as a pawn, but because you are willingly standing beside us. You, the Prince of Beacon Hills, the people’s Prince, what if you stood with the werewolves? What if you stood against the rest of the royals? A couple of mangy wolves that live in the shadows fighting for their freedom is no big deal, but a couple of wolves with an ally like _you_ , Stiles, that’s something worth backing.”

 Stiles kicked at the ground by his seat.

“I want to go, anyway,” he stated firmly.

“Stiles, to go against the Alpha counsel would be suicide. I can’t let you. Deucalion by himself is a dangerous enemy to have.”

“I’m not a werewolf, Laura. I’m not part of a pack. I’m just a kid, and I’m the sort of kid that doesn’t listen, never have been. You can ask my dad about that, if you need a second opinion. Either you convince the counsel that I’m coming with you, or I’m coming anyway. Those are your options,” Stiles said, setting his jaw and locking eyes with the Alpha in front of him. “The Argents are my family, but they’re not my only family. My dad, Scott, you, Isaac, Derek, how could I possibly turn my back on you guys when you have done nothing but be kind to me?”

Laura grinned and nodded her head.

“Understood, Stiles.”

She stood, rounded the table and hugged Stiles tight to her. He chuckled and buried his head into her shoulder. She ran her hands through his hair and sighed.

“I don’t understand how she could hurt you,” she whispered. “I just don’t understand.”

Stiles knew exactly who she was talking about. Laura was the only person who he had actively told about Kate, about her teaching lessons being torture. He hadn’t even told Scott or Isaac, or hell, even his father. He couldn’t imagine what they would feel if he did tell them.

Isaac knew, but that was due to his eavesdropping.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

 

-&-

 

Reinforcements were called in from other camps around the country, supplies were loaded into Jeeps and huge, black SUVs, and plans were finalized. Laura had convinced the Alphas to allow Stiles to go with them, and he stood by his Jeep with Laura and Derek, staring at the rest of the camp. Isaac was asked to stay behind and look after the women, children, and humans that wouldn’t be coming along. John Stilinski stood beside him, hand resting on his gun.

A girl Stiles had seen around the camp a couple of times, Jennifer or Julia or something, broke away from the rest of the camp, hurrying towards them. She grabbed Derek by the front of his leather jacket and pulled him in for a deep kiss. He made a surprised noise before he melted into her, pressing her closer with a large hand at the small of her back.

Laura and Stiles looked away, giving them a moment of privacy.

“I’m going to go say goodbye to Isaac,” Stiles said softly. Laura nodded her approval, specifically keeping her eyes away from the couple.

Stiles headed over to Isaac, trying to keep his steps slow and purposeful but broke into a sprint, launching himself at Isaac as soon as he was close enough. They kissed, like they always kissed, deep and passionate and overwhelming. They held on like if they let go, they’d never see each other again, which was appropriate, because they might _not_ ever see each other again.

Stiles held on tighter.

John cleared his throat and broke the pair apart, Isaac setting Stiles back down on the ground but keeping him close by the waist.

“You be careful, Stilinski,” Isaac muttered.

“I will, I promise,” Stiles said.

“You better.”

“Okay, Isaac, share the Stiles,” John finally said. Stiles stepped back with a wink and hugged his father. “You come home safe, Stiles. You understand? You come home.”

Stiles nodded into his father’s shoulder. They were the same height nowadays; Stiles could rest his chin on John’s shoulder without standing on his tip-toes. The last he’d seen his father, before the whole kidnapping debacle, he was 13 and hadn’t quite hit his growth spurt.

He couldn’t reply, too many emotions coursing through him grabbed at his words and halted anything he had to say to his father. He just clung to his father’s jacket and tried not to cry.

“I love you, Daddy.”

“I love you too, kid. Now, go before I change my mind and lock you in my trailer until this revolution is done.”

Stiles grinned at the pair and headed back to Laura and Derek, Derek’s attachment now missing. Laura had a teasing smile on her face as she poked at Derek.

“When did that happen? Huh? You told me she was just a girl, Derek. You’re not supposed to lie to your Alpha, Derek. Who is she? When did you become on _kissing terms_ with Jennifer?”                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   

  Derek crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Laura, not saying a word in retaliation.

Laura frowned in defeat and turned to face Stiles as he settled back in beside them, waiting.

“All ready to hit the road?”

He started to reply when he caught Scott out of the corner of his eye as he strode towards them, bag slung over his shoulder.

“What are you doing, Scott?” Derek asked as Scott tossed his bag in beside Stiles’ in the back of the blue Jeep. “I’m pretty sure you weren’t cleared by the counsel.”

“He wasn’t,” Laura growled, eyes glowing red.

“My mom is inside that city,” Scott said, standing beside Stiles. “And I am going to bring her back, whether or not I have clearance from the counsel.”

Scott knocked sideways into Stiles and Stiles grinned at him.

“You’re not coming with us,” Laura said to him.

“Laura, please, she’s the only family I’ve got,” Scott begged.

“And what are we, chopped liver?” she asked in return.

“I’m not asking to storm the castle and risk the mission. I’m asking to just get a ride to the wall and back, that’s all I want,” Scott said. “She’s my mother. I can’t have her in harm’s way, I won’t.”

“Scott,” Laura sighed.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, Laura,” Stiles said, glancing at Scott whose shoulders were beginning to sag. “Melissa was like a second mother to me once; I’ll make sure Scott gets in and out without being seen.”

 Laura stepped forward and took Stiles’ chin in her hands, leveling their gazes.

“Stiles, if you’re lying to me,” she started.

“I’m not lying to you.”

She nodded and stepped back, satisfied, mollified.

Stiles was lying to her.

 

-&-

 

The journey took half the time than it had before, the caravan of Jeeps barreling down the road at dangerous speeds. Soon they were passing into the small city outside the capital’s walls, and pulling off into the parking lot of the high school.

“Everyone knows the plan,” one of the Alphas called out over the crowd, standing on the hood of his Jeep. “Follow the map your Alpha gave you, and converge on the throne room. According to insider information, there should be a gala for the princess’ birthday tonight there.”

Stiles’ head snapped up.

_Allison._

“Protect your pack, work as a team, and take down anything that poses a threat. Leave the royals for the Alphas.”

He hadn’t agreed to this for Allison to be hurt, for Chris to be killed.

He followed behind Laura quietly to the passageway underneath the school that led to a servant’s stairwell inside the castle. He kept his heartbeat level, breathing evenly despite the panic welling up inside his chest.

_Allison._

If there was anyone in the world that deserved to be saved, it was Allison Argent. And that’s exactly what Stiles was going to do.

He was going to save Allison Argent, whether the Alpha counsel agreed to it or not. If Scott McCall was allowed to save his mother, Stiles sure as hell was going to rescue his sister.

And that was the end of that.

When they came to the opening at the bottom of the castle, Laura grabbed his arm and pulled her close.

“You take Scott to his mom’s, and then get them both out. Do not linger within the city,” Laura said.

“Of course,” Stiles said, meeting her eyes. “I won’t betray you, Laura.”

She kissed his forehead.

“Go, hurry.”

He started off in the direction of the outlet to the driveway, Scott following behind him. He waited until Laura was out of sight and earshot.

“Listen, I can’t let them hurt Allison, Scott. Go find your mom, bring her to the meeting point, and you stay safe. Do you understand me? You stay safe, and you wait. Do not try any heroic bullshit.”

“You’re about to pull some heroic bullshit, and you’re human.”

“She’s my sister, Scott. You save your family, I’ll save mine.”

“I’m coming with you,” Scott said.

“Scott,” Stiles started to argue when Scott grabbed his hand.

“You’re my family, too.”

Stiles mulled it over and nodded.

“Come on, we gotta do this quickly, before anyone else comes down this passage. There’s a way to the royalty suites that I never shared, not even with Laura. Let’s go.”

Together they took off down the passageway, lit by kerosene lamps for servants only, until Stiles paused and ran his hands over the wall. He found the groove and pressed in, the door popping open and cold, stale air rushed out.

“Come on, this leads right up by my old room.”

Scott chuckled and they started up the long, twisting staircase up never ending floors until they reached the top. Stiles pressed Allison’s birthdate into the keypad, and the door to the private royal suites swung open.

“I can’t believe this is how you’ve been living,” Scott hissed as they carefully clicked the door shut behind them. “You were a prince, while I live in the woods living off generators and eating venison off a public fire pit.”

“It’s really not that glamorous,” Stiles said, heading towards Allison’s room, tucked at the end with literally the best room in the entire palace.

“You don’t have to do chores for your food,” Scott said.

“You don’t have to sit through lessons on etiquette, and Beacon Hills’ history, and hunting techniques. Trust me, the camp is a haven compared to this place sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Scott pointed out. Stiles shrugged and knocked on Allison’s door. She usually made grand entrances at her birthday galas, waiting until all of the guests had arrived to sweep down the grand staircase into the throne room. She hated them, but they used to appease Victoria, and it just became tradition. Even Stiles had to do it, although he didn’t hate it quite as much as Allison did. He liked getting dressed up in an expensive suit and impressing the Dukes and Duchesses of Beacon Hills with how well a commoner cleaned up.

The door whipped open and Allison Argent stood before him. She was wearing a strapless gown, light blue with diamond-encrusted embellishments along the top. Her dark brown hair lay in curls around her face, waiting for the hair stylist to come and finish.

“Stiles,” she breathed out.

“Hey, Alli.”

She swept forward and seized him in a hug, squeezing him hard against her.

“I missed you, I missed you so goddamn much. Don’t do that to me. Don’t you ever disappear again.”

“Alli, we have to go,” Stiles said, stepping back and holding her shoulders. “There’s something happening, and if we don’t go, they will kill you.”

“Stiles, what are you,” she started to say.

“I don’t have time to explain. I really don’t. You just have to trust me, okay? I’m trying to save your life.”

“What are you saving my life from?”

“Werewolves,” he said. “Really angry, really justified werewolves that want nothing more than to be free, and they’re starting with the royal family, and I will not allow them to have you. Now, you might want to put something else on, something you can run in.”

“Stiles, how do you know this?” she asked.

“Because I gave them plans to the castle, and I helped them plan this, and I’m sorry. I didn’t know they were going to kill you. Please, Alli. Trust me.”

She stared at him for a beat before nodding. She hurried towards her wardrobe and picked up a bag stashed at the bottom of it. She turned her back to Stiles and lifted up her hair. He hurried towards her and unzipped her dress. She let it fall off her and stepped out of it, kicking it away.

“Is there time to get my father?” she asked.

“No, I’m not even supposed to be here. We’re supposed to be saving Melissa right now,” Stiles said.

“Stiles,” she said, tugging on a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt. “Where have you been?”

“Not the time, Als.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll save it. But you are telling me everything.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

She turned around and looked over his shoulder. He turned, and found Scott staring, open-mouthed at Allison.

“You broke him,” Stiles said, turning back to Allison who pulled running sneakers onto her feet. “How dare you break Scott?”

“So, _this_ is the famous Scott I have heard so many stories about!” Allison squeaked, grabbing a black jacket out of her wardrobe and shrugging it on. “Finally! Okay, which exit are we using?”

“The service stairwell,” Stiles replied.

“A or B.”

“B.”

“Awesome, I love that one!” she said, swinging her bag up onto her shoulders and grabbing her compact crossbow out of her desk, and stashed its bolts into her jacket pocket for easy reach. “Let’s go.”

Stiles grabbed a hold of Scott’s arm, dragging him out of the room while Allison led them back down the same stairwell they’d taken up.

“I know we’re supposed to be completely silent on escape routes, but, I gotta ask, how did you get tangled up with werewolves?”

“It’s really a long story, Alli.”

“Alright, alright, how’s Scott involved?”

“Scott’s a werewolf,” Stiles answered. “He’s here to bring his mom with us.”

“Scott’s a werewolf,” Allison repeated.

“Scott’s a werewolf,” Scott echoed.

Stiles followed as Scott moved past him to walk beside Allison. She smiled and answered his questions about what the palace was like, how long she’d been in training to be a hunter, and even what she thought about Gerard’s policies on homosexuals, and werewolves. Stiles could see as they walked down the stairs that there was definitely something there, something that Scott or Allison had never experienced before.

It made Stiles smile.

“Okay, we’re reaching the sub-passage, this is where we’ve got to be quiet,” Stiles said, looking at the markers on the wall. “Scott, you get your mom as quickly as you can, meet me by the park. I have to hide Allison for a little bit, before….”

“Before you break the news to Laura that you did exactly what she told you not to, and betrayed the Alpha counsel, just like you told you she wasn’t going to,” Scott filled in.

“Yeah, before that. She’s not gonna like me after this. Derek’s gonna hate me. Oh, god. And Isaac.”

“Isaac is _not_ going to hate you, Stiles,” Scott said, grabbing Stiles before they could open the entrance into the lower passageway. “Isaac is in love with you, and you saving your sister, despite what Laura or the Alpha counsel says, is not going to make him stop loving you. Laura and Derek will get over it, trust me. And if Deucalion has his way, by the end of the night, you don’t have to worry about hiding out in the woods anymore.”

Stiles nodded.

“Okay, now keep quiet,” Allison advised, pulling the door open just enough to let them out. They stepped out and looked up and down the corridor. Allison kept to Stiles’ side, just as they were taught, keeping in formation as close to her as she could without hindering movement between them.

“ _Part of being hunting partners is always being there, being ready to save their asses. You cannot let your guard down, and you do not let your partner out of your sight. You stick to their side, but you give them room, and you stick with them, no matter the costs. They are the most important part of who you are, and you will not let anything happen to them.”_

He looked at Allison as they made their way into the hallway, smiling in the light from the passing kerosene lamps. His hunting partner. His sister.

 _Allison_.

“Stop staring at me, Stiles,” she hissed.

He grinned and turned his face away while they hurried to the outlet to the driveway.

“Scott, you better get ready to run, and fast,” Allison said, pressing her hand to the door handle. “The driveway is going to be packed with upper-class hunters and you need to just run as fast you can until you get to your mom. Meet Stiles where he told you, and just be safe. Okay?”

He nodded and she pushed open the door, setting him loose.

“Where we hiding?” she asked.

“Remember that cellar we holed up in during my basic training? During the simulated werewolf attack?”

She nodded.

“Let’s try there. It’s deep in the city, and no one’s going to look for us there.”

“No, not the prince and princess, not in a dirty cellar beneath a dive bar.”

“Come on, smart ass, before any of the wolves come out here.”

 

-&-

 

“So, that story,” she said as they hurried down an alleyway. “Ready to tell me?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Stiles sighed, stopping at the cellar window. “I was kidnapped, first of all.”

“What? Stiles, you, what?!”

“Don’t worry, they didn’t hurt me,” he said, kneeling and taking the knife Allison held out. He jimmied the lock open, and opened the window. “Ladies first.”

Allison grinned and slid gracefully into the cellar, landing on her feet in a crouch. She pulled a flashlight out and clicked it on, scanning the cellar quickly before calling out her okay. Stiles slid in after him, landing with a stumble.

“So, kidnapping,” Allison prompted.

“Right, so, I woke up in this sketchy motel with these two guys I didn’t recognize, and I didn’t remember anything. I didn’t remember my name, how old I was, how I’d gotten there, anything,” Stiles said, settling in between an old dusty sofa and a broken pool table. He started to tell his story, telling her about Isaac and Derek, about the trip to the camp, and then his time at the camp. He told her how his dad wasn’t dead, just in hiding, and he told her about how Kate had betrayed Derek and she’d murdered an entire pack of innocent people. He told her about Isaac, so much about Isaac, and Scott, about Cora and Laura, about Deaton and the entire camp. He told her about the chores and the responsibilities assigned to members of the camp to keep it running smoothly. Mostly smoothly, he told her about the hiccups they had sometimes.

It felt good getting this weight off his chest.

“God, I missed you,” she said with a laugh as he told her about how someone kept forgetting to buy toilet paper. “I forgot how lonely it is, in the palace, without you. Before, I didn’t know what I was missing, but when you went missing, I didn’t know what to do with myself. I didn’t have anyone to talk to.”

“What about that, uhm, Lydia? You were friends with her, before I left.”

“Lydia? We were friends, sure, but not like you and me are. You’re my brother.”

“Yeah, I know. The first time I kissed Isaac, it didn’t seem real. I wanted to run into your room and tell you about it, and analyze it, and make it real, but I couldn’t. It sucked.”

“You should probably get going,” Allison said, checking her watch by the light of her flashlight. “Get Scott back to the rendezvous point.”

“And you’ll stay here? No trying to get Chris?” he asked. He doubted it, but Allison knew better than to go barreling headfirst into a crowd of angry werewolves out for her blood. Hopefully.

“My father is the crown prince of Beacon Hills, as well as one of the most capable hunters in the world. I’m sure he’ll make it out just fine on his own.”

“I’ll be back soon, okay?”

She nodded and Stiles stood. He gave her a last minute salute before climbing up onto a wobbly chair and pulling himself up out of the cellar window. He latched it shut behind him and started for the park.

Scott and Melissa arrived shortly after Stiles did, and Melissa smiled brightly at him, even as her eyes spoke of how terrified she was.

“Prince Klaudiusz,” she fake-curtsied.

“Don’t you start with me, too,” he said, giving Scott a look. Scott had done the same thing when Stiles was first announced as a new addition to the Argent family. Like mother, like son.

“Where’s Allison?” Scott asked.

“I’ve got her stashed some place safe. I’ll get you outside the wall, you make it to the Jeeps, okay?”

“What am I going to tell Laura?” Scott asked as Stiles started to lead them down a side street behind a row of shops.

“I don’t know. Tell her the truth; she’s going to find out sooner or later. Hell, she probably knows right now. Just, ask her not to hate me for this. If it were Cora, or Derek, she’d do the same thing,” Stiles said. Scott nodded. He led them through a twisting path of side streets and alleyways until they came to a grate in the wall, two of the bars missing with just enough room for two slender McCalls to fit right through.

“Go, I’ll find you.”

“Stiles,” Scott said as Melissa slipped through first.

“I know. Now, go.”

He turned and walked away, taking the most direct path to the dive bar’s cellar instead of hiding in the shadows. The window was propped open by Allison’s knife; her flashlight cast a light inside, revealing that it was empty. Stiles growled, yanking the knife out from between the frame and the sill, and snatched up the flashlight. He tucked them both away in his jeans and started for the palace, shaking his head.

“I am going to kill her. I am just going to kill her.”

“Who, me?” Allison’s voice chirped from above. He glanced up and found her perched on the roof of the dive bar’s porch. “You’re getting soft, Stilinski. Thought you were better than that.”

“Why’d you leave?” he asked while she swung herself down agilely. Some days, Stiles was convinced that Allison was part jungle cat, with all her grace.

“The owner came down; I hid underneath the pool table until he left. Thought it might be better to move, in case he came back.”

Stiles nodded.

“What now?” she asked.

“I don’t know. We run. We hide. We stand and fight. Whatever you want. I’m already in pretty deep with the Alpha counsel, anyway. Might as well finish the job.”

“I need to see if my father’s alive.”

They didn’t make it far before the city’s announcement screens in the square flared to life. They froze in the center of the street, staring up as the Argent family emblem disappeared and was replaced by Chris’ face, bloodied and bruised.

“People of Beacon Hills,” a voice came from off-screen. Deucalion crouched beside Chris. “Behold your mighty leader now.”

“Dad,” Allison whispered.

“Too long have we hid in the shadows. Too long have we been ashamed of our heritage. Too long have we been terrorized, hunted, feared by the reign of men. Gerard and Christopher Argent will pay for what they have done with their blood, and with their lives,” Deucalion said.

“We have to stop them,” Alison said quietly.

“You want to go bursting into a throne room full of murderous werewolves who are out for your entire family’s blood. You want to risk your life for your father, who can most certainly get his way out of this?”

“He’s my _father_ , Stiles,” Allison urged, eyes locked on the screen.

“Alli,” Stiles said.

The camera zoomed out to show Deucalion and Chris, and the rest of the hunters on their knees, werewolves around them. Allison seized Stiles’ hand.

“Please, we have to try.”

Stiles stared at the screen, Chris’ eyes looking straight into the camera lens.

“Let’s go.”  

They took off running, sprinting as fast and as hard as they could down the streets, towards the castle. Stiles hadn’t done a lot of running in the weeks he’d spent at camp, in fact the amount of running he did was exactly zero. He used to run every day, or near it, with Allison for training. The driveway was packed with cars, which they weaved through, up to the front doors. They burst through them and ran into the lower level throne room.

“Stop!” Stiles yelled over the clamoring of werewolves, Allison stuck close to his side, compact crossbow at the ready. “You can’t do this!”

Laura stepped out from the crowd, Derek just behind her.

“What are you doing, Stiles?”

“You spent weeks convincing me that you’re not monsters, telling me that the evil ones here are the Argents, and now you’re going to murder the prince on live television?” Stiles asked. “Right now, Deucalion, you’re the monster, not Chris.”

Deucalion narrowed his eyes at Stiles, nodding towards one of the other Alphas. Kali shoved through towards Stiles and Allison.

“Don’t you dare,” Derek growled, moving between them.

“Derek,” Laura warned, her eyes turning from their hazel to a burning red.

“Isaac would never speak to us again, Laura,” Derek replied. “Besides that, he’s right. If we kill them, what’s to stop the rest of the hunters from coming after us? We’d be no better than them.”

 _Atta, boy, Derek_ , Stiles thought.

“Derek, this is crazy, don’t do this,” Laura urged.

“Stiles, take the princess and go,” Derek ground out. “You don’t want to see this.”

“I’m not leaving without my father,” Allison replied.

“Don’t be stupid, girl. This boy is giving you a free pass to save your life. You didn’t harm my people, so I’ll let you go,” Deucalion said. “But your father has allowed the suffering to continue, as he’s done nothing to stop it. Nothing can save him now.”

“By law, the crown prince can set no laws without the permission of the king,” Stiles said, stepping to the side around Derek. “And Gerard over there would never allow any laws that did not benefit him or his cause.”

Deucalion glared at Stiles, eyes glowing red.

“Kill Gerard, whatever, but Chris should not be held responsible for what his father has done,” Stiles said, stepping around Derek to stand before him. “I’ll make you a deal, Deucalion. I’ll see to it personally that no Argent tries to rule, or hunt, or so much put a toe out of line. But you leave Chris and Allison alive.”

“Now, little boy, why would I do that?”

“Because, I’m Klaudiusz Argent, I’m the prince of Beacon Hills, and I can assure that no Argent harms a werewolf ever again.”

 

-&-

 

Chris and Allison piled into the back of a palace SUV while Stiles drove, Derek at his side. Laura drove the Jeep with Scott and Melissa, too angry at Derek and Stiles to even drive with them. Chris and Allison were allowed back at camp until the world settled, but only because Stiles vouched for them, and promised he would take care of them, and make sure they didn’t get into any trouble.

“You know you’re never going to hear the end of it with Laura now,” Derek informed Stiles.

“I’m aware. Some things are worth it, for family.”

Allison cooed from the back.

“You’re a fool, Stiles Stilinski.”

“I lost my family once, Derek. I couldn’t do it again.”

Derek glanced at him from the corner of his eye, nodding approvingly.

“I know.”

They drove in silence, twisting through the hills towards the camp. Allison’s cute snores echoed through the car and Chris’ sleep twitch in his legs kicked at the back of Stiles’ seat before either of them spoke a word.

“Why did you defend me like that? Go against Laura for me? I did it for Allison, but you don’t even like me. I mean, I’ve said some awful shit. I’m an Argent. You have every reason not to like me, even less reason to _save_ me.”

“Maybe not,” Derek answered. “But I meant it when I said Isaac would never speak to us again. We saved that kid from his father, he trusted us, and he became family… And he would hate us for the rest of his life if we let anything happen to you.”

“Ahh, so it’s a matter of self-interest, then.”

“More or less, but I can see what Isaac has been raving about,” Derek said.

“What?”

“Isaac talks about you _a lot_ , Stiles. I mean, a ridiculous amount. Most things I don’t ever want to remember. But he does talk about how loyal, almost to a fault.”

“Okay?”

“And I appreciate,” Derek sighed and shook his head. “Just take care of Isaac, okay? Don’t hurt him, whatever you do.”

“I won’t.”

“Stiles,” he started to say. Stiles reached out and clasped Derek’s arm.

“I won’t, Derek. I want Isaac in my life for as long as he wants me in his. I won’t hurt him.”

 

-&-

 

“Stiles, we need to talk,” Laura said as soon as the Jeep caravan reached the parking clearing at the foot of the mountains. “Derek, show the Argents and Melissa to John’s cabin. I’ll return Stiles as soon as I’m done with him.”

Allison stepped cautiously towards Stiles.

“I’ll be okay, Alli.”

“But I’m not supposed to leave you alone. Hunter’s code.”

“There’s no need for a hunting partner anymore, Alli.”

“Be that as it may, you’re still mine.”

He smiled.

“And you’re mine. Always, and forever. Just, please, stay with Derek. He’ll take you to my dad, and he will make sure you’re safe.”

She nodded and started off with Chris, following behind Derek and Scott. He watched them go, the rest of the caravan unloading and heading off back home.  

“If you’re going to kill me, Laura, please, just make it quick. And tell my dad I love him.”

“I’m not going to kill you.”

“You’re not?”

“No. Why would I do that?”

“Because I disobeyed a direct order, saved two out of three Argents, and possibly destroyed the entire mission?”

“I wouldn’t say you destroyed the entire mission,” Laura chuckled. “Muddled it a bit, when it didn’t need to be muddled, but Gerard is dead, and werewolves are free.”

“For now,” Stiles said sadly. “What happens when a family of hunters takes power again?”

“You won’t let them.”

“I promised to look after the Argents, not the entirety of hunter families.”

“Stiles, I want you to talk to the people of Beacon Hills. I want you to encourage them to use their own judgment on whom to allow to rule their country. It is their decision now, and I want that message not to come from a werewolf, but from their prince himself.”

 

-&-

 

The video starts and the crowd stands, eyes transfixed to the screen. It’s playing on every screen, on every computer, in every home, in every school, in every public building in Beacon Hills. Sitting in the middle of the frame is former Prince Klaudiusz, eyes turned down into his lap, his hair messy like it had never been. He was wearing just a simple t-shirt, chewing at his lip before he looked up.

“Hello,” he said gently, shifting nervously in place. “My name is Stiles Stilinski, but you might know me better as Prince Klaudiusz Argent. I don’t want to waste your time, but there is something to be said for recent events that have changed your country, and the way you live your lives. Our former king, King Gerard ruled by fear, by forcing you to stay silent. By forcing you to fear your government, and what it could do to you. He oppressed his subjects, and destroyed all that he hated. He left a path of destruction in his wake, all because he could, all because he was scared of anything that might usurp him, anything that might threaten his way of life. In turn, he made you fear stepping outside your house, made you fear talking to your neighbors, and worst of all, made you fear being yourselves. No one should have to worry about whether or not they will be snatched from their families, from their homes because of who they choose to love, or whether or not they howl at the moon every now and again. King Gerard was a tyrant, who used and abused his power for his own means. To Gerard Argent, Beacon Hills was nothing more than a hunting ground, but that stops now.”

He paused and looked towards the edge of the shot, frowning for a moment.

“Tyranny,” he said, turning his head back to face the camera, “ends now. It is your choice, whether you live in oppression or you stand up against those who oppress. Today is the day to show your humanity, in ways that King Gerard and his hunters never did. Stand up for werewolves, stand up for your neighbors, for your friends, for your family. Stand up for your teachers, for your bosses, for the girl who serves you coffee at the café on the corner. Stand up for them, stand up for everyone you’ve ever known, for everyone has been a victim of Gerard’s vicious reign. Stand beside them in their fight, and take back your country.”

He leaned down out of shot for a second, the curve of his back the only thing left visible before he stood, holding a square bit of paper.

“There was a little boy, scared, orphaned, and alone in the world. He’d lost his mother when he was only eight years old, and then, when he was thirteen, barely five years later, his father was killed in action. With no family in the country, this little boy was sent to live with his godfather. He was lonely, and broken, and he had no one. He had to leave behind his school, his home, and even his best friend. He lived in the palace, and he remained alone. But he wasn’t alone, not really. He gained a sister, a loving, kind girl with a smile that lit up his darkest nights, and he learned that maybe he wasn’t so alone after all. He lived in the palace, and became a prince, and he grew up.”

He twisted the paper in front of him, then flattened it, and turned it to face the camera.

It was a picture of the prince and a boy with curly blonde hair, pressed in close together, arms slung around each other while they grinned like they couldn’t be happier. He looked down over the edge of the paper and smiled.

“And despite the words that King Gerard pounded into the heads of many, he found the love of his life, and he found it in a werewolf. Werewolves, he found, were not scary bedtime stories, they were not shadows hiding in the dark. They were kind, they were resourceful, they were loyal, and they were not monsters. In the end, having lived in every part of Beacon Hills, in the city with its citizens, in the palace with its royals, and in hiding with its outcast, he discovered no one race was a monster, but every race contained its own monsters.”

He folded the picture and tucked it into his pocket.

“He didn’t just find a sister, a family, the love of his life, though. Living as he did, learning from those around him, he learned how to live free of expectation, live free from fear, and how to live free from panic. He found his way, in the dark, in snow, in sleet, in pouring rain, when there was no hope left, when he was all alone, when nothing felt right. He found his way. And then, he found his voice. He spoke up against that which was wrong. He rallied with those who needed him. He fought the monsters that plagued Beacon Hills. He used what he knew, used what he felt, and trusted those around them, no matter if they were human or wolf.”

He took a step closer to the camera, and stared directly into the lens.

“And he, I encourage you, citizens of Beacon Hills, to do the same. Find your freedom, amongst all this chaos. Find your way in the darkness. Find your voice, and use it. Tell your parents that you love them, tell your neighbors that you trust them, tell that person that you’ve been dying to go out with that you want to touch their butt,” he said, cracking a smile towards the edge of the shot. “Use your voice, join us. I encourage you to use your voice.”

He reached for the camera but stopped, with a wicked grin.

“So say we all,” he said.

A second voice echoed from the side, “So say we all.”


End file.
